


Lost and Found in Time

by MarsGem



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, F/F, Magical Realism, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-09-24 23:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 58,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17109875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsGem/pseuds/MarsGem
Summary: Private Investigator Yasmin Khan returns home after working a month-long case in Scotland hoping everything will go back to normal. However, thanks to the new, quirky and ever so charming antique shop owner, that plan falls apart very quickly.





	1. Home Sweet Home

**Author's Note:**

> TW for chapter 19: Implied sexual assault, it's between breaks so easily skippable if you so choose.

It had been over a month since Private Investigator Yasmin Khan had made the short walk from her flat to the Park Street Cafe. This was thanks to the case that meant she had to spend a month working in one of the coldest parts of Scotland. Something that had started in Sheffield had turned out to be a nationwide case. But now dozens of women had been rescued from a sex trafficking ring and it was thanks to Yaz’s involvement.

Despite it being cold enough that Yaz could see her breath when she exhaled, November in Sheffield was not nearly as bad as it was in the highlands where she’d spent the last two weeks undercover in buildings with faulty heating. Home felt very good.

Yaz looked up at the sign of her favourite cafe. It was so welcoming and familiar, exactly what she needed.

Graham and Grace O’Brien had owned the cafe as long as most locals could remember apart from that one guy who came in to read the paper every day and only ordered a black coffee. He said he was there when the original owners still ran the place and declared it wasn’t as good but he was morally against chains so kept coming back. No one liked him very much but the O’Briens appreciated the £1.90 he brought every day all the same.

Everyone now called the cafe GG’s (well, apart from Newspaper Man) because it rolled off the tongue better than “The Park Street Cafe” which was the name written in big, white letters on the front of the building.

Yaz pushed open the red door and was welcomed by a wave of smells that made her feel at home. She was also greeted by cheering from Grace, Graham, their grandson Ryan, and the other regulars who were always in at the same time as Yaz.

“There she is!” Grace declared happily, “The Hero.”

Yaz laughed, “I think hero is a bit much. I was just doing my job.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You did something big! You saved so many lives!” Graham said.

“My channel has so many hits thanks to me covering your progress, so, cheers,” Ryan added with a grin.

Yaz walked over to her friend and gave him a hug. It had been too long. After her job was finished in Scotland she had visited her parents. This involved her sister saying she was mad, her dad telling he was proud and her mum worrying that she hadn’t been eating.

After that short visit Yaz went back her flat. She’d arrived home the night before last and had slept nearly 24 hours. Because of this, she hadn’t seen her neighbour and good friend until now.

“Your usual?” Grace asked, knowing the answer.

“Of course,” Yaz replied.

“It’s on the house today,” Graham said as he placed a large coffee and a bowl of granola with yogurt, banana and honey on a tray for Yaz, “Heroes don’t need to pay when they return from saving the world.”

“Okay, maybe you can call me a hero if it gets me free stuff,” Yaz said, taking her tray and sitting at Ryan’s table where he had returned to working on his laptop.

Ryan looked at Yaz’s coffee in disgust, “I still can’t believe you drink that.” Ryan preferred his coffee simple, whereas Yaz had a sweet tooth and her drink of choice was a hazelnut mocha.

“What? It gives me lots of energy for the day! Sugar and caffeine, they were made for each other.” Yaz protested, “Also, I haven’t had anything other than instant in two weeks so lay off.”

“I figured it was rough but I didn’t realise just how bad it was!” Ryan gasped.

“I know! The first few weeks on the case were okay. I was working closely with the police, I got the spare bedroom in the chief’s house and everything. Then I went undercover and I still feel cold from those nights on a mattress on the floor.” Yaz shuddered at the memory.

Yaz looked down at her bowl as memories hit her hard. She already had a therapy session booked to help her deal with what she’d been through. This was not the kind of thing she wanted to bring up at breakfast in a public space, she’d tell Ryan about it later.

“You look tired,” Ryan said.

“Manners, Ryan!” Grace scolded from the coffee machine where she was making an order.

“Sorry, Nan!” Ryan replied.

Yaz laughed softly, “You’re not wrong, though. My eyebags have eyebags.”

“There we go, Yaz agrees.” Ryan said indignantly.

Yaz picked up her coffee and sipped it. Warmth ran through her, thawing out her chilled bones a little. Before she’d left, Yaz would arrive at GG’s every morning at 9:30am to get breakfast before starting work. Grace and Graham would always have her order ready so all she had to do was pay. When she’d gone away she’d gone in to tell her friends not to make her breakfast until she contacted them again.

But now everything was going to go back to normal. Yaz was going to be meeting with a new potential client that morning and she only hoped it didn’t lead to her going undercover in somewhere even colder than Scotland.

Yes, everything was the same. Well, except for one thing.

“What’s that new shop?” Yaz asked Ryan after they’d been sat in silence for a few minutes.

“What? The antique place?”

“If the antique place is the shop with a blue storefront, then yes,” Yaz replied.

Ryan shrugged, “Dunno really. Just started to appear one day. First, some workmen painted it blue then over about three days stock was moved in and it opened within two weeks of them starting it. I’ve not been in yet.”

Grace walked over to collect Ryan’s mug and plate, “I have. The owner is a lovely young woman. She’s a bit eccentric, but you can tell she likes her job. She comes in here at least once a week for lunch.”

“I might check it out,” Yaz mused, “could in interesting. What sorts of antiques does she sell?”

“Oh all sorts,” Grace said, “I actually got a very nice edition of Bleak House. One of the original copies apparently.”

“It’s been sat untouched on our coffee table since,” Graham interjected.

“Love, it’s not meant to be read. It’s too fragile.” Grace replied softly.

Graham frowned, “What’s the point in a book if you don’t read it?”

“It’s nice to have nice looking things,” Yaz suggested.

“Exactly. It looks nice on our coffee table for the moment so that’s where it shall stay.” Grace said. She turned back to Yaz, “Anyway. I’m glad someone has finally moved in, that place has been empty far too long. I think _Lost and Found in Time_ will fit in here nicely.”

Yaz nodded. The quirky shop did fit with the other independent shops that filled Park Street.

As she listened to Grace and Graham continue to bicker about the various bits and bobs Grace brought home Yaz smiled to herself. The simple chatter was what she’d missed the most. Nothing serious, just conversations between friends.

Yaz finished her coffee and her granola and stood up to leave. She was meeting the potential client at 10:30 so she needed to get a move on. She brought her tray back to the counter, “Thank you. This was the best welcome home I could have hoped for.”

“We’re glad to have you back!” Grace said, “It was odd without you.”

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” Graham added, pointing a finger at her, “We missed ya.”

Yaz smiled, “I will do my best. This man I’m meeting is enquiring about a potentially unfaithful spouse, so hopefully, that won’t end up being too dramatic.”

“If it does, keep me a little more updated this time,” Ryan said, “gotta get those views!”

“‘Course, Ryan,” Yaz said dryly, “I will break client confidentiality for your YouTube show.”

“Cheers,” Ryan grinned.

Yaz shook her head with a slight smile on her face. She bid her friends goodbye and headed back to her flat to meet with the client.


	2. A Little Night Stake Out

Mr Chan believed his wife was having an affair and wanted Yaz to find out if his suspicions were correct. It was a simple enough case so she’d accepted it. Something simple after her previous hell would be good for her.

She’d spent the day tailing Mrs Chan and nothing exciting had happened so she decided to nip out to buy dinner. According to Mr Chan, his wife had a book club that night which would start at 7:00pm. He’d given Yaz the address and she planned on returning to tailing Mrs Chan when she left home at 6:45pm. That gave her about an hour to buy dinner and drop it at her flat.

Yaz walked down the street and saw a blonde woman with blue glasses leaving the antique shop. She locked the door on her way out so Yaz could only assume she was the owner. The shop owner had shaved the side of her head - there was a simple but effective circle pattern shaved in. It looked pretty cool and Yaz made a note to compliment it when she eventually went into the shop.

When Yaz walked past she smiled at the other woman who returned it, then the two of them went their separate ways. Yaz couldn’t help but notice how pretty the shop owner was. She had sparkling green-y hazel eyes that seemed like they knew the secrets of the universe.

But the other woman was already gone and Yaz had to resist looking back to get another look. She would just have to go into Lost and Found in Time tomorrow.

Within a couple of minutes, Yaz arrived at the local Sainsbury’s. In her teen years she’d worked at one and often wondered what had changed in nearly a decade.

She walked through the automatic door, grabbed a basket and started to wander around looking for ingredients. Yaz had spent two weeks not eating enough and what she did eat wasn’t healthy. Now she was home it was her mission to get back in shape. She had lost a lot of weight and muscle so she would be trying to eat healthy meals and go to the gym as often as work allowed.

10 minutes later Yaz had bought all the food she needed for the next few nights and now headed home. She checked her watch, if she rushed she would arrive at the Chan household just as Mrs Chan was leaving.

Sometimes Yaz wished she had a car, but it wasn’t practical if she didn’t want to stand out. Because she didn’t have her own she had got insured as a named driver on Grace’s for when she had to go out of town. Grace said as long as she paid for her share of the insurance and for petrol (and didn’t crash it) she could use it whenever. A box of Grace’s favourite chocolates always found its way into the glove box after Yaz had driven it.

Yaz quickly put away her shopping then changed into different clothes so Mrs Chan wouldn’t recognise her if she had spotted Yaz earlier. Not that she would, Yaz was very good at blending in. When she was tailing people Yaz always kept a couple pairs of glasses and at least one hat in her bag and would wear clothes that could be rearranged into something slightly different with ease.

It was cold so Yaz grabbed a pair of gloves too. After she’d sorted out getting an Uber, Yaz made a flask of tea while she waited. Stakeouts like this one got cold so a large flask of tea was a necessity. That and a pack of biscuits, of course. Tonight she had chosen chocolate coated hobnobs.

She got the notification that her Uber had arrived and left the flat. Yaz stepped out into the cold and saw a red-haired woman parked in a silver car a few metres down the road. This matched the description so Yaz jogged over.

Yaz knocked on the window and the woman who was apparently called Liz open the door, “Hey.” She said bluntly.

“Hey, are you my lift?”

“Yasmin, right?” The redhead asked.

“Yep!” Yaz got in the back and Liz set off. She’d told her to drop her in the street that led onto the one where the Chans lived. Weird cars dropping off people who then didn’t go into a house looked suspicious after all.

Yaz took out her work phone to go over the info Mr Chan had given her. It all seemed fairly straightforward. The book club was a 10-minute walk from the house so Mrs Chan always walked. She would be there for two hours and a half hours, give or take. Normally home between 9:30 and 10:00.

The Uber arrived and Yaz thanked her driver, promising a good review. Liz grunted a thank you and drove off, possibly a little faster than legal. But Yaz wasn’t the police so just rolled her eyes.

Already feel the cold, Yaz pulled on her gloves. She set off in the direction of the Chan household. The plan was to wait in a dimly lit alley Mr Chan had told her about. He said that his wife would walk right past it so Yaz would be able to see her, but she wouldn’t see Yaz. The perfect hiding spot.

Yaz came across an alley that fit the description and walked down. It was near pitch black down there, the odds of her being seen were slim. Yaz leaned against the wall and watched patiently. Stakeouts took time and after doing this job for five years, Yaz was used to doing nothing but watching for long periods of time.

While she waited, Yaz sipped her tea and took a moment to appreciate how much she enjoyed it. It was, in Yaz’s opinion, the only thing that rivalled coffee. Well, that and good bourbon.

The sight of a well-dressed woman of Chinese descent walking past pulled Yaz back to the present. Mrs Chan was wearing a red scarf, like her husband said she would be, so unless some other Chinese woman lived on this street and owned a bright red scarf, Yaz was pretty sure this was the right person.

Yaz counted to 10 then started to follow. She walked along on her phone, using the Maps app to navigate to where the book club was held. It also meant Mrs Chan wouldn’t see too much of her face if she turned around. Every now and then Yaz glanced up to check that the woman she was tailing was still there. Each time she was.

10 minutes of walking later Mrs Chan knocked on a door and Yaz walked past the house so she didn’t look shifty. She then circled around and looked for somewhere she could watch the house. Nowhere inconspicuous outside, so Yaz walked into the pub nearby that gave her a decent view.

Yaz decided to order a drink so they didn’t hate her and sat down. She watched patiently, checking social media to keep her busy.

Several other women knocked on the door. All of whom looked to be around middle aged. All wearing clothes that were more expensive than Yaz even dared to look at. Each time one of them knocked, a handsome 30-something-year-old man answered. Yaz took a photo of him when she got a chance as Mr Chan had told Yaz the host was a woman. Yaz’s gut told her this detail was relevant.

An hour in Yaz beckoned over a boy who looked about 20 and got him to buy her another drink. She told him he could keep the change for the tenner she gave him. He was more than happy to oblige.

Two hours and 20 minutes later, the book club members started to leave. Their cheeks were flushed so either it was hot in that house or they’d been drinking. Mrs Chan hadn’t come out yet. Aftera  further 10 minutes she finally appeared. Her body language screamed flirty so Yaz quickly grabbed her phone to start filming. The man leaned down and it looked like he kissed her. Yaz wasn’t certain where, but she had it on film regardless.

Mrs Chan walked away and the young man watched her a few moments before going back into his house.

Yaz downed her drink, pulled on her hat and coat and left to follow Mrs Chan home. This time she walked on the other side of the road. She needn’t have followed her, though, as Mrs Chan went straight to her house. Moments later she got a text from her client telling her his wife was now home.

Yaz decided it was time to call it a night so she walked to the road where she’d been dropped off and called an Uber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll meet the Doctor properly next chapter, get ready team!  
> Also, if you enjoy mochas, definitely try Yaz's drink of choice that I mentioned in the last chapter - it's really good.


	3. When Yasmin Met Joanne

Yaz lay on her sofa at 8:45am waiting for a phone call from Mr Chan. He was meant to call her to let her know how the casual chat with his wife about the book club had gone but he was late. Only by five minutes but Yaz wanted to start the day. She needed to shower before then going to GG’s for breakfast.

She stared up at the ceiling thinking about her night. It had felt like the early days again. Sitting in a pub with a glass of cider, watching quietly from afar. In her many years as a PI Yaz had solved a lot of cases. From missing items to missing people, even a few murders. People didn’t really go to PIs for murders, the police had more resources.

When she had missing person cases it was when the police had come up with nothing but the person who wanted their friend/family member found refused to give up.

But now…

Yaz ran a hand through her dark hair with a soft exhale. Now her body ached. Her mind did, too. It was day three of being at home and as much as she tried, Yaz was still uneasy. She had therapy at the end of the week so she wasn’t really processing the events properly just yet. That could wait for the assistance of a trained professional.

It was now 8:50am. Yaz stood up and walked into her kitchen to make a cup of tea. Like most other Brits, Yaz believed a good cup of tea fixed pretty much any problem. Even her friends who didn’t like the stuff knew it had mending powers.

She flicked the switch on the kettle which started to whirr. Yaz leaned against the counter and looked out the window - it looked like it was going to be a good day weather wise. The sky was dotted with wisps of white cloud, but mostly clear and the sun shone brightly. Yaz checked the temperature, according to her phone there would be highs of 8°C. Oh joy.

Yaz opened a cupboard and grabbed her favourite mug. It was an Emma Bridgewater one with sunflowers. Her mum had got it for her when she solved her first case. She put a peppermint tea tea bag in the mug and returned to her place leaning on the counter.

After what felt like an age, the kettle whistled merrily alerting Yaz it was ready. Typically, it was then that her phone finally lit up and _Call Me_ by Blondie filled the room. Yaz scrambled to answer, turning off the kettle in the process. _Not having tea after all, I guess,_ she thought, a little sad.

“Morning,” she said, her voice coming out hoarse as this was the first time it had been used that day.

“Good morning Miss Khan.” Mr Chan replied. He did not sound like he’d just woken up.

Yaz rolled her eyes and sat back down on the sofa, “You can call me Yasmin.” She then went right into work mode, “So. How did it go?”

There was a long pause and Yaz had to check the call hadn’t dropped, “She said the _woman_ who runs the group is Helen Parson and that it’s specifically a women’s book club.”

 _Well, yes,_ Yaz thought, _I only saw women enter and leave that house._

“Right. No mention of a man, then?” Yaz asked to confirm.

“None at all,” Mr Chan said through gritted teeth.

Yaz sighed. “I see. I will look into getting the name of the house owner and you can confront her about it. I try not to meddle in the actual emotional side of things, just give you all you need to win.” Yaz explained. She had told Mr Chan this yesterday, but she liked to make sure her clients knew.

“Yes. Thank you, Yasmin.” Mr Chan said.

Yaz was already standing up to go shower, “So, I will give you a ring today when I have his name. Would you like me to gather any more evidence?” This was another thing Yaz liked to double check with. Some people couldn’t afford to hire her for as long as it took to get a decent amount of information on their case.

“I think that would be beneficial.” Mr Chan replied. Obviously, Mr Chan _did_ have the money for this.

“Cool. I’ll see what I can do. Do you know if your wife doing anything today?” Yaz asked as she looked around her room for clean clothes to wear. For the millionth time she reminded herself that she needed to sort her bedroom out. The floor was not a suitable wardrobe, yet here she was, kneeling down looking through a pile of jeans.

“I need to check the calendar, hang on,” Mr Chan said and he actually put Yaz on hold.

“Didn’t know normal people did that,” Yaz muttered. She danced idly to the hold music (which was some very royalty free sounding electronica) while she searched for the shirt that went perfectly with the blue jeans she’d declared clean enough to wear.

“Aha!” To her surprise it was actually hanging up in her wardrobe. The shirt was lilac with deep purple stars all over it. A birthday present from Ryan who’d picked up on Yaz’s love for stars. As much as Ryan pretended to be cool he was a massive softy.

The next task was finding the boots she wanted to pair with the outfit she’d chosen. She’d definitely seen them when she got home three days ago.

“Back,” Mr Chan declared, causing Yaz to jump, “she’s meeting “Paula” for coffee at 2:00 in Starbucks.”

“Where’s your nearest Starbucks?” Yaz asked. She had successful found one boot but the other was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s on Marl Cross Lane, do you know it?” Mr Chan asked.

“I’m sure I can find it,” Yaz said. She was very good with Google Maps after all. Yaz knelt down on the floor to look under her bed and finally found the other boot. She grinned, pleased with herself. “Okay, Mr Chan, I’ll go to that Starbucks and see if she meets the man there or someone who looks like a Paula. I will call you around 5:00 if that suits you?”

“Yes. Thank you. Goodbye Yasmin.” And with that Mr Chan hung up.

Yaz hurriedly stripped off and ran to the shower. She was going to be late for her breakfast if she didn’t get a move on.

 

* * *

 

“Oh come on, tell me,” Ryan pleaded.

Yaz put down her spoon and shook her head, “Nope. Client confidentiality. Not happening.”

“You’re not fun,” Ryan pouted.

“No, I take my job seriously. It’s just a cheating case, anyway. Not exactly exciting,” Yaz assured her friend, digging into the granola once more. They’d ran out of bananas like she normally had so Graham had improvised and used raspberries instead. It was actually pretty good.

“Leave her alone,” Graham said from behind the counter, “the girl can’t breach her contract.”

“Thank you!” Yaz exclaimed.

“What I can’t believe is you’re going to _Starbucks_ !” Bill said loudly. Bill was one of the baristas who worked at GG’s. She was always friendly _and_ made a brilliant coffee. She also used to work for Starbucks and now had a bit of vendetta. “They’re the enemy, Yaz.” Okay, a lot of a vendetta.

Yaz shrugged, “If it makes you feel better I am only going because I am literally being paid to.”

“Your morals have a price, huh?” Ryan teased.

“Oh piss off,” Yaz laughed, “but yes. £80 an hour.”

She finished her food, gulped down the rest of her coffee then stood up, “If anything exciting happens I’ll let you know. I’m either just getting photos of a woman with another man or going to waste my day discovering that Paula is real and return to my client empty handed. Hardly YouTube worthy.”

“Okay, good point.” Ryan conceded.

Yaz picked up her leather jacket and backpack and walked out with a wave to her friends. As she stepped out the door Yaz glanced at the antique shop. She could see the quirky blue glasses wearing owner inside. She was sat behind the counter reading by the looks of it.

Seeing as she didn’t have to leave for another two hours, Yaz decided she might as well introduce herself to the new resident of Park Street. She had time to kill, after all.

Yaz crossed the road and pushed open the door of the shop. A bell chimed happily causing the owner to look up (and quickly take her feet off the counter). She grinned at Yaz, “Welcome to Lost and Found in Time! I know it’s a bit of a mouthful so I’ve been calling it Lafit.” The other woman rambled.

“Lafit… cute!” Yaz replied returning the owner’s grin. She looked around the shop, the lighting was warm, which made it feel very cosy and welcoming.

She started to browse the shelves, intrigued by the contents. The small shop was crammed with old knick-knacks and artefacts. Some of the price tags were higher than Yaz would earn in a day sometimes. Definitely more than she would earn today, that’s for sure.

There was something special about the atmosphere in Lafit. It fizzed with a whimsical energy that Yaz couldn’t quite put her finger on. Everything that was sold was older than she was, which definitely added to the vibe. Each item had a story.

“After anything in particular?” Asked the owner.

Yaz turned to look back at the woman behind the counter, she had been watching Yaz browse, “Not really. If something catches my eye I’ll know.”

“Aaah, one of those. Best way to shop, I think. Makes it more interesting.” Yaz enjoyed the way this woman talked. Her happiness was infectious.

After a couple minutes of browsing Yaz’s eyes fell on an ornate lioness statue. It was the exact size of the gap on her bookshelf. Before she’d gone away Yaz had managed to knock off the decorative bowl that she’d had on the shelf. It had smashed and before she could replace it, she’d gone off on her mad adventure. She looked at the price tag, it was a little expensive but looked like it was worth the asking price.

“That lioness is said to bring the owner protection,” the owner said, suddenly behind Yaz, causing her to literally jump in the air from surprise. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!”

Yaz turned to look at the other woman, “It’s okay. I was in my own little world,” she turned back to the statue, “tell me more about her.”

“Well,” the owner reached around Yaz to take the statue from its shelf and led Yaz to the counter where the light was better, “if you look it’s got smokey quartz eyes. Smokey quartz is used for protection from bad energy. Good if you’re in a dangerous profession. And then her claws are bloodstone which brings luck in achieving your dreams.” She picked up the statue and turned it upside down to show Yaz the base, “And here, this sigil is believed to ward off evil spirits.”

Yaz looked at the engraving, it just seemed like a few lines to her. But if the shop owner said it was a sigil, who was she to say otherwise?

“When is it from?” Yaz asked.

“Oooh, the 1700s I should think. She’s lasted well,” the owner placed it back down, “so, interested?”

There was only a brief moment of consideration before Yaz asked, “Do you take card?”

The owner jogged around the counter to ring up her purchase, “We do indeed! Want me to wrap it for you? No extra charge.”

“Sure,” Yaz said.

The owner slid Yaz the card reader and started to wrap the lioness in black, shimmery tissue paper. Yaz took her backpack off and carefully placed her new statue inside. She looked back up at the beaming woman, “Thanks. It’s going to have a good home.”

“Brilliant,” there was a brief pause, “can I ask your name?”

“Uh, Yasmin Khan. Yaz to me friends.” Yaz said, “And you?”

“Doctor Joanne Smith!” Joanne said proudly.

“Doctor? Of what?”

“History.”

“Oh, that figures.” Yaz laughed.

Joanne nodded, “Yeah. I love everything to do with history, it’s so interesting.”

History had never been one of Yaz’s biggest interests, but suddenly she wanted Doctor Joanne to teach her all about it.

She looked down at her watch, still plenty of time but if she wanted to watch an episode of Brooklyn-99 before she left she needed to get a move on.

“Well, thank you for all your help, Joanne,” Yaz said, starting to shuffle towards the door.

“No problem! And please, call me Jo,” she added.

“Alright, Jo. Oh, before I forget, I like your hair,” Yaz added quickly.

Jo grinned and instinctively touched her hair, “Thanks. I do, too.”

“Well, I’ll see you around I’m sure.”

Jo grinned, “I hope so, Yaz!”

Well, apparently they were friends now if Jo was already calling her Yaz.


	4. The Suspicious Feminist

Yaz was sat in Starbucks with a hazelnut latte (she wasn’t a fan of their mochas), scrolling down her Twitter feed. She was currently wondering if Jo was into astrology and what her sign was. She certainly seemed like the type who checked her horoscope. Yaz didn’t really believe in all that, but she enjoyed the idea of it.

Bill had once told her that the reason she was having a crap day was being Mercury was in retrograde. Ryan said she needed to stop blaming her problems on the planets and accept that maybe she was having a bad day because “shit happens”. The two of them had got into a heated discussion about the universe at the end of which they agreed to disagree because Yaz made them.

From then on astrology was one of the banned topics in GG’s. Along with football, politics, and Tom Hiddleston. That last one was enforced by Bill and Graham after Yaz and Ryan had spent an hour ranking his arse in all the films he’d been in. They had both been a little tipsy and the idea was hilarious to them.

Back in Yaz’s reality, Mrs Chan hadn’t arrived yet. Nor had Robert Parson as she’d had discovered his name was.  _ Robert  _ Parson. Not  _ Helen  _ Parson. Mrs Chan could have at least tried to come up with a surname, too.

One of the things that excited Yaz about this current job was she got to try out her new camera glasses. All she had to do was press a button on a small remote control and they took a photo. She had got them before the Scotland assignment then had to leave them at home so she hadn’t been able to use them on a job yet. Until now.

Before arriving Yaz had called a friend and asked her if she could come to this Starbucks when Yaz texted her. The plan was that when Mrs Chan arrived, Yaz would leave her seat to use the toilet only to come back and find her table had been “stolen” by a group of women. Then Yaz would, in theory, find a table near where Mrs Chan chose to sit. 

Just as Yaz was starting to worry she had the wrong place, Mrs Chan walked in, she was on the phone.

“Yeah don’t worry about it. I’ll get us a table. See you soon.” She hung up and slipped her phone into her expensive looking bag.

She ordered a black Americano which made Yaz decide she was boring. She then put a sweetener in it which just solidified this judgement. Yaz watched Mrs Chan walk to the back of the coffee shop. She was completely out of sight if you looked in from the outside. Either Mrs Chan didn’t like being by the door where it was colder, or she didn’t want to be seen. Or perhaps the armchairs at the table she had chosen were especially comfy and Yaz was missing out.

Yaz finished off her coffee and headed to the toilet. She quickly texted her friend who was stationed in the shop next door. Once her friend said she was in position, Yaz went back to her original table. She pretended to discover it had been claimed with a loud sigh of annoyance that she hoped Mrs Chan saw. While she was up, Yaz decided to order another coffee.

“Hello again,” the barista said in that too chirpy customer voice people with customer-facing jobs did.

“Hey,” Yaz replied, far less chirpily.

“What can I get you? Same again?”

“Yes please,” Yaz said with a nod.

“That was a hazelnut latte, right?” She checked. Yaz nodded again. She paid and waited at the end of the counter for her third coffee of the day. Just as Yaz reached for the drink, in walked Robert. He was dressed in a well fitted grey suit, so most likely a businessman.

“Thanks,” Yaz said to the barista who’d handed her her mug then walked to the back. She sat down at a table with a low armchair. Based on this chair, Yaz very much doubted Mrs Chan had chosen her table for its comfort. Yaz made a note to tell Bill that the chairs in GG’s were far better.

Robert walked over to Mrs Chan and smiled, “Hello! Sorry I’m late, my meeting ran over.” He said apologetically.

Mrs Chan stood to greet him, “Oh don’t worry about it,” the two kissed and Yaz snapped a photo. That photo alone would be damning evidence, but she may as well stick around seeing as she was there. Yaz discreetly set her work phone to start recording audio while she pretended to read a book.

“I’m just going to grab a coffee. Did you want anything,” Robert asked.

Mrs Chan shook her head, “No thank you, I’ve still got plenty left,” she gestured to her mug of sadness.

Robert walked off and Yaz decided to pause her recording. No need wasting space on the phone. She glanced at Mrs Chan and Yaz realised she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. She wondered if the women at the book club knew that Mrs Chan was really married or not. She probably would never find out.

Robert returned with an espresso. Typical businessman. One day when Yaz had nothing to do, Bill had given her a crash course on the types of coffee drinkers. She said businessmen liked espressos, Americanos and occasionally lattes. Bill had then correctly predicted the drinks of the next six customers, none of whom were regulars. 

Yaz leaned down and started her recording again. As it turned out these two were shockingly  _ dull  _ people. Robert, who apparently went by  _ Rob _ , talked about work. He did something to do with computers. Possibly. Yaz didn’t really care enough to work it out.

Mrs Chan, on the other hand, talked about gardening. Either it was her job or she was really into her own garden. Again, Yaz didn’t care enough to work out which it was. There was no mention of her husband, though.

Anytime they touched hands over the table Yaz took a photo. Any evidence she could get would be appreciated, Yaz knew.

After what felt like an eternity, but in fact was only half an hour, Robert had to go back to work. Yaz silently cheered in her head. The two kissed goodbye, another photo, then Robert left. It was all Yaz could do to not run out of the coffee shop, but she had to wait a little bit before she could.

Five minutes later Yaz walked out. She texted her friend to say thanks for her help and that she’d buy her a coffee sometime.

* * *

When she got home Yaz did some more digging on Robert. The book club was listed on Facebook as a public group. It was for women to read feminist literature with an expert. A  _ male _ expert on  _ feminism _ was hosting a group for only women.  _ Sure, why not,  _ Yaz thought bitterly and wondered if the members were okay in the head.

It didn’t state anywhere publically that Robert had any form of degree in women’s studies, but perhaps he did or maybe he had done research in his own time. Although, having listened to Robert talk for half an hour Yaz was pretty sure he was fraud.

Yaz looked at the profiles of the seven other women in the group. All middle-aged like Mrs Chan was. Some had kids, some didn’t. It was weird. Yaz wanted to investigate this book club more, but there was very little she could figure out online and Mrs Chan had specifically said no contact with any of the parties involved.

On the topic of Mr Chan, Yaz realised it had just gone 5:00pm so she should give him a ring. She found him in her contacts and pressed call. He answered quickly.

“Hello Yasmin,” he said, “so?”

“Bad news, I’m afraid. I’m emailing you everything now. The audio file is mainly them talking about computers and gardening, but I thought you might be interested anyway.” Yaz explained.

Mr Chan was silent for a long time and like that morning Yaz wondered if the call had dropped, but he finally spoke. “Thank you for your work. I will pay you the rest in full tonight.”

“Glad I could help, I hope confronting her goes alright,” Yaz said.

“Me too,” Mr Chan replied, “well, goodnight Miss Khan.” He hung before Yaz could reply. Yaz felt sorry for the guy, she knew she wouldn’t take the same situation well either. 

Yaz started to make her dinner and thought about Robert Parson’s odd feminist book club. She didn’t think it was sinister, but she got a weird vibe from that man earlier and it was making her suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologise to anyone who likes black coffee - I feel very sorry for you.


	5. Books and Croissants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jo is a cheeky flirt.

After a successful day yesterday, Yaz was treating herself to a day off. Well, it wasn’t actually planned, she just didn’t have any new clients wanting to meet her yet. Sometimes she went weeks without a case. Given she had spent five weeks solid working, this didn’t worry her.

Like all of Yaz’s days off, this one was going to be spent with copious amounts of coffee and a book. That morning when Yaz went to her bookshelf to see what she had to read she discovered all her books on the To Read shelf were crime thrillers. One of which was even set in bloody Scotland! And as much as Yaz loved Helen Field’s writing she was not in the mood for that.

This discovery is what led Yaz to borrow Grace’s car after breakfast and driving to the nearest Waterstones. She needed something light, possibly something aimed at teenagers, not that all teen fiction was light.

When she walked in she marched right up to the counter where a handsome man with blue hair was doing something with paper and books.

“Morning!” Yaz said cheerily.

The bookseller looked up from what he was doing and smiled, “Hi. How can I help?”

“I am looking for a really light romance type book. Any spring to mind? Nothing specific, just a light easy read. Maybe YA?”

“Hm… I’m going to grab my colleague, she’s an expert. Anna!”

With Anna’s help had Yaz found two new books to read and was now back at GG’s, slumped in her favourite armchair (so much comfier than Starbucks’) with a ham and cheese toastie and obviously a coffee.

She had been there for about 40 minutes when the door opened and in stepped Joanne. Jo went right up to the counter, clearly, she hadn’t spotted Yaz as she didn’t say hello and Yaz felt this woman was the type to greet anyone she knew if she saw them.

“Hi Jo,” Bill said cheerily, “what will it be today?”

“That brilliant brie and cranberry croissant I had last week again and the usual coffee.”

“Cool. Are you eating in today?” Bill asked.

Jo looked around the cafe, probably looking to see if there was anywhere to sit, Yaz guessed. Finally, she spotted Yaz and waved gleefully, “I’ll eat in, I think.” Jo replied.

“Fab. That’ll be £5.60, please,” Bill said then went to work making Jo’s coffee. While Bill did this Jo walked over to Yaz. Yaz - who had given up on reading her book now it seemed as though Jo would be having lunch with her - smiled.

“Hey Yaz!” Jo greeted her happily.

“Hi,” Yaz replied, “did you want to join me?” She offered, gesturing to the armchair next to her.

Jo’s face lit up and she reminded Yaz of a puppy who’d just been praised, “Yes please! If you don’t mind, of course.” She added quickly.

Yaz shook her head, “Wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

“Jo, your coffee’s ready,” Bill called from behind the counter. Jo bounded back to the counter to retrieve her coffee, “I’ll bring over your croissant.” Bill told her.

“Thanks!” Jo beamed and returned to Yaz’s table.

“Whatcha drinking?” Yaz asked.

Jo flopped down unceremoniously in the armchair, “Vanilla cappuccino! Cinnamon on top. You should try it one day, it’s ace.” Yaz found how excited Jo was about coffee adorable. It was also how Yaz felt about the stuff.

“Cinnamon, huh? Interesting,” Yaz reached for her own drink only to discover it was finished.

Jo nodded, “Yeah. Friend of mine told me about it one day and I haven’t gone back,” she leaned down to stir her drink, “more interesting than chocolate I think.” When she went to pick up her cup, her shirt sleeve managed to get in the drink. Jo scrunched up her face at the foam.

“Damn,” she muttered, wiping it off with a napkin Yaz had left on the table. She irritably rolled up her sleeves so it didn’t happen again and revealed a tattoo on her left arm that had been hidden from Yaz until then. The tattoo consisted of several hexagons on her forearm. Some were filled in solid black, some were hollow and one of them contained the image of a purple nebula.

“Your tattoo is so cool!” Yaz said.

Jo looked at her arm, “Oh yeah, it goes all the way up my arm to my neck and chest,” she unfastened the top few buttons of her patterned shirt and pulled it away to reveal more of the hexagons. There were a few more of the nebula ones higher up. They more spread out on her chest and forearm, but from what Yaz could see they got closer together on her upper arm.

“How long did it take?” Yaz asked. She’d always loved tattoos. At 18 she’d got a small flower on her hip, but hadn’t got any more since. That was eight years ago now - she planned to get more. Eventually.

“Oh hours. I had three sessions to do all of it. Worth it, though,” Jo grinned, “I’ll have to show you the whole thing sometime. Photos don’t do it justice, but I’m not taking my shirt off in here. Sorry.”

Before Yaz could reply to that with anything embarrassing, Bill appeared with Jo’s food, “Here you go,” she said, “enjoy!”

“That smells so good,” Yaz said, changing the subject from that of Jo taking off her clothes.

“I can get you one if you want?” Bill offered.

Yaz shook her head, “Nah, I’m still full from the toastie. Thanks, though!”

Jo picked up the steaming croissant and took a bite. Yaz wondered how she could even make eating adorable. Yaz scolded herself, _you’ve only just met this woman, steady on._

“So, Yaz, are you new here? Don’t think I’d seen you until the other day,” Jo said conversationally.

“No, no,” Yaz replied, “I just went away for a month. I’ve lived here for three years.”

“Oh right. Where did you go?” Jo asked.

Yaz looked down, “Well, you know that big sex trafficking thing that just got caught and ended?”

“Oh yeah! So mad. You don’t think that stuff actually happens until it’s on news,” Jo said, “What about it?”

“I was one of the people who helped with that case,” Yaz said.

“Helped? You were one of the biggest parts in solving it!” Bill yelled from the counter.

That made Yaz blush, she didn’t like attention at the best of times, and now her friend was talking her up to a very pretty woman.

“Wow. That’s ace!” Jo said, “Was it scary?”

“Terrifying. I was undercover for two weeks in the highlands,” Yaz said.

Jo whistled, “That sounds cold.”

“It was freezing! I still haven’t quite thawed out.” Yaz laughed.

The two of them talked about various things for the whole of Jo’s half-hour lunch break. Jo had been everywhere on her travels to get stock for her shop. She couldn’t have been that far into her 30s, 35 at most Yaz guessed, but the way she talked you’d think she’d been around for much longer.

“Right. I need to go back to the shop, but we should do this again!” Jo said, standing up, “I like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you, too,” Yaz replied and before her better judgement could stop her she added, “Did you want to do dinner tomorrow night? There’s this little independent Italian restaurant that me and me mates like.”

Jo’s face lit up, “That sounds really good!”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at 6:00 tomorrow night. If that works for you.” She added hastily.

“Brilliant,” Jo replied, “how formal is it? Don’t want to be the only one just wearing a t-shirt or something.”

“I would hope you wore more than _just_ a t-shirt to dinner, Jo,” Yaz teased.

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Jo laughed.

“But to answer your question, no, it’s not formal. But maybe don’t just wear PJs, they may frown upon that.”

Jo smirked, “Well, I sleep naked so I imagine they’d definitely tell me off,” she winked and left without another word.

Yaz watched her go, mouth open in shock at how smoothly Jo had managed to deliver that line.

Bill came over to clear the table and laughed at Yaz’s shocked expression, “She’s good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's reading, you're my favourites!  
> Also, if you enjoy crime thrillers, read Helen Fields books. She really does write books set in Scotland, it was too good an opportunity to miss!


	6. Blondie, Pizza and Audrey Hepburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date.

Now, Yaz was a chilled out person in public. She was good at first dates. One of the best if she was to believe that one friend she once went on a double date with, but what people didn’t see was the preparation.

The date routine was an organised mess. First Yaz would either have a shower or at least a wash, depending on the day. Today was a shower. Which meant blow drying her very thick hair, that always seemed to take forever.

She would then do her makeup, halfway through which she’d panic and have to take half a shot of tequila. No more than that, of course, especially not when she’d be driving.

After her makeup was done (or rather after she got bored of fixing her wings for the fifth time) Yaz would go through her wardrobe looking for an outfit to wear. She would go through a minimum of three before finding the right one, though it was normally more.

Once the outfit was picked she would search wildly for her wallet only to discover she’d left it in the bathroom or the kitchen somehow. How she managed to do this nearly every time, Yaz didn’t know.

She’d then find her bag, shove in her wallet, a bottle of water and her makeup bag just in case. When the bag was packed Yaz would have to brush her hair again if she was wearing it down. Today she’d opted to wear space buns. Her signature look.

Finally, Yaz would put on whichever coat went best with her outfit and walk out the door. As soon as she was ready her calm and collected persona took the reigns again and she would greet her date appearing to be the most effortlessly charming person they’d ever met.

Yaz walked to Lost and Found in Time where Jo said she would be waiting. After Jo had left the cafe yesterday, Yaz had realised they hadn’t exchanged numbers so she’d popped into Lafit to rectify that.

She peered inside the shop to see if Jo was ready. Her date was sat on the counter staring off into space. Yaz knocked on the door causing Jo to jump and nearly fall off the counter. She barely caught herself, the whole thing was adorable. Jo hopped off the counter and grinned sheepishly at Yaz as she stepped out the door.

“Hey,” Jo greeted her like she hadn’t just made a bit of a fool of herself.

“Hey,” Yaz replied, “shall we? Before you go falling off anything else.”

Jo pulled a face, “I didn’t fall off! I only  _ nearly _ fell,” she protested.

Yaz laughed, “Alright, before you  _ nearly _ fall of anything else. Better?” Jo nodded, “I’ve booked a table for 6:30.”

“Cool. Where’s your car?” Jo asked, looking up and down the street.

Yaz scratched the back of her head, “About that. I borrow Grace’s so we just have to walk to her house. Don’t worry, it’s near.”

“Fine by me!” Jo replied and the two of them set off. While they walked Jo told her about this man who’d come in wanting to sell her what he claimed to be an ancient pearl necklace but was really just a fancy dress item.

“It was plastic. I could see that from the second he pulled it out,” Jo said, “I don’t know why these people think they can get away with this.”

“People are idiots?” Yaz suggested

“Apparently.”

They turned a corner onto the street where the O’Briens lived and Yaz led Jo over to Grace’s car. Yaz opened Jo’s door for her then went around to the driver’s side and got in.

“Right. It’s 20 minutes away from here. There are several CDs in the door well thingy, feel free to browse and put something on. Or we can listen to the radio.” Yaz said, as she checked her blind spots and started the car.

Jo rummaged for a moment then made a happy noise and grabbed a CD. Yaz wanted to look but focusing on the road was a little more important. Jo busied herself putting the CD in the player. After a couple moments, Blondie’s Heart Of Glass filled the car.

“Love a bit of Blondie,” Jo said with a grin.

The two of them danced and sang along to Blondie’s greatest hits with gusto. As it turned out, Jo was actually a pretty good singer. Maybe not destined to win XFactor, but she could definitely hold a tune. Yaz had always been pretty good at singing and as a child was often the lead in the school musicals. But severe stage fright had developed in her late teens and she’d stopped. She still liked to do a bit of carpool karaoke, though.

Four and a half Blondie songs later they arrived. Yaz parked the car and the two of them stepped out, “Right, restaurant is that way,” Yaz said, pointing up the street, “c’mon.”

Jo didn’t need telling twice and started walking briskly. A chilled breeze blew through the already cold night making Yaz glad she’d decided to wear a scarf. Jo, on the other hand, was not wearing a hat or scarf and definitely seemed to be shivering.

“Cold?” Yaz asked.

Jo pouted, “No.” That was a lie.

“Want my scarf?” Yaz offered, already going to take it off.

“No, no,” Jo insisted, “what kind of date would I be if I took your scarf?” She added.

“A shivering one, apparently,” Yaz smirked.

That made Jo pout again, “I don’t actually own a good scarf.” She admitted.

“What? How have you managed that?” Yaz asked.

“Well,” Jo sighed, “I used to have this really good one. It was super warm, but I lent it to an ex and she never gave it back. I haven’t got around to replacing it.”

Yaz shook her head, “I couldn’t live like that,” she said with feigned drama.

“Oh shut up,” Jo laughed, bumping her shoulder into Yaz. Moments later they arrived at Antonette’s. Yaz had first gone there with Ryan not long after they met because Ryan said they did the best pizza in Sheffield. This had yet to be disproven.

They were greeted by a sweet and bubbly woman who led them to a table near the back that Yaz had requested over the phone. She handed them their menus then left with the promise she’d be back soon.

“Well this is cute,” Jo said, looking around the restaurant.

“Don’t you think? I really like it here. I always try to get this specific table because you can see into the kitchen pretty well.” Yaz said.

“Oh cool!” Jo turned to look at the chefs and her face lit up as she watched them work, “I’m a really bad cook, I burned cornflakes once.”

Yaz looked at Jo in astonishment, “I- ... _ How _ ?”

“I put them in the microwave,” Jo said matter-of-factly.

“... _ Why? _ ”

“I was melting chocolate on them. Look. It seemed like a good idea. It obviously wasn’t,” Jo shrugged, “I now know not to put cornflakes in a microwave.”

Yaz laughed, “I feel like you should have known that before, Jo.” Jo just shrugged again.

The two of them started to look at their menus. Yaz already knew what she wanted to get, she'd gone the same thing every time she had dinner at Antonette’s. An American hot was always her go to with pizza.

“What do you fancy?” Yaz asked Jo.

“It all sounds so good, but I think I have to go for the Hawaiian.” Jo looked like she was bracing herself for Yaz to react badly. She was assuming right.

“Oh no. You don’t like pineapple on your pizza, do you?” Yaz asked, exasperated.

“It’s really good!” Jo protested, “Add a bit of rocket and it’s just,” she did the chef’s kiss.

“You are mad, Jo,” Yaz declared, “raving mad.”

“I don’t know why people hate it so much,” Jo said, “it’s really good. Plus, it’s not like you have to eat it. Let me enjoy my food!”

Yaz laughed, Jo was adorable when she got passionate, “Fine, fine, you win.”

“Thank you.”

At that moment the waitress came back, “Are you ladies ready to order?” She asked in a much too chipper voice.

Jo and Yaz both gave each other the “I am if you are” look. They both ordered their pizzas, Jo got a glass of wine and Yaz a raspberry lemonade. She also quickly added, “Oh and we would like one of the cheesy garlic bread starters,” she looked at Jo, “your mind is gonna be blown. Best garlic bread  _ ever _ , no question.”

“Oooh, alright. Love a bit of garlic bread,” Jo said enthusiastically.

“Coming right up. We’ll be over with your drinks shortly,” the waitress said before taking their menus and leaving.

Jo started to investigate the candle holder as if it were a puzzle. Yaz watched her just enjoying her date’s company. Jo was so full of life, but those glorious hazel-green eyes of hers looked old. Yaz could tell that even young as Jo was, she had lived a life. She had stories, Yaz could tell, and all she wanted was for Jo to tell her all of them. She was, to sum her up in a word,  _ enchanting _ .

“Here you go,” Yaz was pulled back to reality by the waitress bringing them their drinks, “enjoy!”

Yaz reached for her drink, “I think the best raspberry lemonade I had was when I accidentally met the Queen.” Jo said in the same way someone would tell you that they enjoyed the colour yellow. Her delivery and what she had actually said caused Yaz to nearly choke on her drink.

“I’m sorry?!” She spluttered, “How do you  _ accidentally _ meet the Queen?!”

“Oh it’s a good story, actually,” Jo grinned, “I’d been at this really fancy private party with Audrey-”

Yaz interrupted, “Audrey?”

“Oh, Hepburn.”

“ _ You knew Audrey Hepburn? _ ” Yaz squeaked.

“Yeah. Anyway,” how could Jo say “Yeah. Anyway,” after telling her she went to at least one party with THE Audrey bloody Hepburn? Yaz decided to leave it for the moment, but they would be circling back to how Jo knew one of film’s most iconic women. Jo continued, “I was her plus one because her gentleman friend, can’t remember who it was at that point, couldn’t make it. Quite flattering to be the next best thing considering the men she dated.” Jo looked quite pleased with herself, Yaz could hardly blame her.

“I digress. It was late so we decided to call it a night. Thing is Audrey’s usual driver wasn’t available so we were using a replacement. He seemed nice enough. The plan was that I would stay over her house as I was living in Birmingham at the time and the party was in London.

“We get into the car, it was a very nice one - much more expensive than I’d ever own - and set off. Audrey- what?” Jo stopped and Yaz realised she must have been pulling a face.

“Sorry, I am just enjoying that you called Audrey Hepburn Audrey,” she explained.

Jo cocked her head to the side, sort of like a spaniel, “Why? It’s her name.”

“I know, but it’s like when your teachers have real names. It’s weird!”

“Hm. I guess so. May I continue?” Yaz nodded, “Okay. So we’re driving through London, it’s raining because of course it is, and I’m getting a really weird vibe off the driver. I’d been to Audrey’s house before and we weren’t going the right way. Of course, Audrey was starting to panic, she’d y’know,” Jo mimed smoking then pretended to look dazed, “I started to yell at the driver to stop but he wouldn’t.

“I had to take matters into my own hands and climbed into the front to force him to stop. We got out and he sped off. So there we were. Stranded in London at 1:00am. We started to walk in hopes of finding a phonebox.

“Then a big, black car with dark windows pulled up next to us and the driver wound his window down and said ‘My passenger would like to offer Miss Hepburn and her companion a ride.’ We’re both really confused because this is proper shifty. I took charge because Audrey was still off her tits and said, ‘And who might your passenger be?’ and he said the Queen! We weren’t gonna say no to Her Majesty so we got in and they took us home.”

Yaz stared at Jo, open mouthed, “That’s mental.”

“I know! Turns out, Her Majesty really likes Audrey. Thought she was brilliant,” at that moment the waitress appeared with their starter, “So yeah, that is how I accidentally met the Queen  _ and  _ how there is a single copy of 1984 signed by Audrey Hepburn.”

The waitress stopped half way through putting down the platter to just stare at Jo, “That sounds like one hell of a story!” She exclaimed.

“Oh, it is! You see-” Jo started to tell the story again.

“Jo.” Yaz said gently.

“Sorry, I’ll write it down and give it to you to read after your shift,” Jo said with a grin.

“Uhm, thank you,” the waitress replied, “enjoy.” She added quickly then scurried off.

“Poor girl,” Jo muttered, “anyway. You said this is the best garlic bread, shall we dig in?”

“Definitely. Prepare for one of the best things you’ve ever eaten,” Yaz said, taking one of the pieces.

Jo picked up one for herself eagerly, “I dunno, I’ve eaten a lot of things.” Yaz’s mind went right into the gutter at that. She pulled it back out by eating.

Yaz watched as Jo took her first bite. She rolled her eyes back and hummed with pleasure, “Okay. That wins. That is absolutely  _ brilliant _ .” Jo said before rapidly eating the rest.

The rest of the night was a roaring success. Jo declared Yaz had ruined her for all other Italian restaurants which somehow led to a story about the time she accidentally had pizza with the Italian mob. It seemed Jo got into a lot of “accidents” that ended up being unbelievable stories.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end and at some point after 9:00 the pair walked back to the car. Jo was tipsy from three glasses of wine and was gripping onto Yaz’s arm to steady herself. Yaz was hardly going to complain.

Several Blondie songs later they parked back at the O’Brien’s and Yaz escorted Jo home. When they arrived at Lafit, Jo started to rummage for her keys, “Thanks for a great night,” she said into her bag, “why do keys always make their way to the bottom of the bag?”

“Sod’s law?” Yaz suggestion, “and I had a good time, too.”

“Aha!” Jo had found her keys. She looked at Yaz with her sparkling grin, “I’ll see you around, Yaz. Thanks again.” She leaned down and kissed Yaz’s cheek lightly before scurrying into her shop.

“Night Jo,” Yaz called after her.

Jo spun around, “Night Yaz!” Jo locked her door and wandering wobbly up to her flat above the shop. Yaz touched her cheek where Jo had kissed her and smiled. Definitely a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of Jo's anecdotes in this chapter is based on something I did and I wish it was the one about Audrey Hepburn.


	7. Give Her Therapy

To say Yaz didn’t want to go was an understatement. She was dreading it. One of Yaz’s many skills in life was suppressing bad memories so far down that she wasn’t even sure some of them even happened.

But when she’d got back to the Aviemore police station they took one look at her and told her she needed to see a therapist. She must have looked a state when she got back, but she’d got information that meant the whole operation was busted so her personal cost was worth it.

“I’m fine,” Yaz had insisted to the chief.

“Miss Khan you are not fine. I know of a good therapist in Sheffield, I will contact her on your behalf. She will help.” The chief had replied. When Yaz hadn’t had the energy to argue she knew the chief was right. Of course, she was, three weeks staying in her house had shown Yaz the woman had a good head on her shoulders.

Yaz put on a hoodie and jeans and called that good. It was a low effort kind of day. The plan was to go straight from GG’s to the therapist. Her session was at 10:30, so she had plenty of time.

“You alright?” Ryan asked when Yaz pushed open the door of the cafe.

“It’s today,” Yaz said with a shrug, “doing as good as I could be.”

Ryan walked over and hugged her tight, “You’re the strongest person I know, a little therapy will be a breeze.”

Yaz smiled up at her beanpole of a friend, “Thanks.” She managed.

“Right. I’m buying today. Or rather, I already did,” he gestured to a table where two coffees and two breakfasts were waiting.

“You’re a star,” Yaz said sitting down. She took a big gulp of her coffee, it was deliciously sweet.

Ryan plonked himself opposite her, “So I was looking into this big conspiracy theory,” he began. When Ryan started talking conspiracies he got really excited. Like a child on Christmas in a sweet shop.

The latest internet-fuelled nonsense was that the home assistant devices were scanning you to make robot clones. Yaz ate and listened, nodding or pulling faces at the appropriate moments.

“I think they want to make a robot army,” Ryan explained.

“Why would they need to clone us for that?” Yaz asked.

Ryan shrugged, “I dunno. Ask them.”

“I’ll make sure to ask Sundar Pichai next time I see him,” Yaz deadpanned.

Ryan frowned, “Having a moment, who is he?”

“CEO of Google, mate,” Yaz said, “thought you of all people would know that.”

“Oh right. I did, I just, y’know, forgot.” Yaz nodded, unconvinced.

Finally, the time came for Yaz to leave. She thanked Ryan for breakfast and the distraction and set off on her walk. Dr Elizabeth Ivory worked conveniently close. When Yaz had been sent the address she’d done a happy dance because she knew she’d be able to walk there.

Dr Ivory’s office was in a small office building. Yaz had walked past it many times and never really thought anything of it, but now she had to go in and face two weeks of trauma it felt big and scary.

“Come on, Khan. You can do it,” she muttered to herself and walked up to the door. She pressed the buzzer for Dr Ivory and waited. There was a metallic clunk as the door unlocked. Yaz pushed it open and followed the signs to the office. Outside were three chairs and a potted plant.

Yaz took a seat and pulled out her phone. She opened Instagram, mindlessly scrolling to distract herself. She’d followed Jo on there and the content she posted was so good. Photos of weird things she had found that were either for sale in the shop or in her house and the occasional selfie. There was one selfie Yaz liked a lot because it showed off most of her tattoo. There were a few more of the nebula hexagons further up her arm. The tattoo was just so cool, Yaz wished she had something like that.

The door to Dr Ivory’s office swung open, startling Yaz.

“I’ll see you next week,” a kind voice said to the man who was leaving the office. His eyes were red, he’d probably been crying.

Dr Ivory turned to Yaz, “Yasmin?” She asked.

“Hi,” Yaz stood up and extended a hand for Dr Ivory to shake.

“Come in,” Yaz did as she was told. It was a small room. There was an armchair at one end with a chest of drawers next to it and a sofa at the other. The walls were painted blue and the carpet with a soft creamy colour. There was a shelf with a few books and a plant and next to that was a very small window. On one wall there was a picture of a dog. That was Yaz’s favourite part.

Yaz sat down on the sofa when Dr Ivory gestured to her to do so. Dr Ivory sat down in the armchair and crossed her legs. She looked to be in her 40s. She had a black pixie cut and kind eyes.

“So, how are you?” Dr Ivory asked. It was such a simple question but felt so loaded.

“Right now?” Yaz asked, “I’m bricking it.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Yaz laughed, “Because talking about a traumatic experience is scary.”

“I understand,” Dr Ivory nodded, “is there anything specific you would like to talk about in this session?”

Yaz shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess. I think I need to just get it out. Stop repressing it.”

“Okay, may I first ask what you want to get out of these sessions?”

“I want to not be anxious about Scotland. I really like it there,” Yaz laughed.

“I think that’s a good goal,” Dr Ivory said, “what about the idea of going back makes you anxious?”

“Uhm,” Yaz furrowed her brow, “most of it to be honest.”

“Why don’t you tell me a little about where you were staying? Chief Candor tells me you spent two weeks undercover in of the potential bases of operation for a sex trafficking organisation. How was that.”

Terrible. That was the word Yaz could sum that experience up as. She explained to her therapist that she had been posing as one of the women they were going to smuggling out of the country. She stayed in what turned out to be one of seven “safe houses” if one could even call them that.

The reason she had been chosen to go was simply Yaz was the only willing person who fit the believed criteria. She was a young and pretty Asian woman.

“The reason I was involved at all was I had a client report her friend missing. They’d come to the UK together for a holiday but the friend had vanished,” Yaz explained, “I still don’t know why she came to me and not the police. Fear, probably. That’s normally why people come to me instead of the police when it’s actually a legal matter.”

“Do you wish she’d gone to the police?” Dr Ivory asked.

Yaz shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t like to think about what ifs, not healthy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,”

When she’d agreed to go undercover Yaz had been grateful that she’d grown up with her Nani because she still had a strong accent that Yaz had learned to mimic. This was vital. She had to pretend to know very little English and keep her accent strong as she could.

They never suspected her so she clearly did a pretty good job of blending in. She just copied the other women’s mannerisms and behaviours for the most part. It wasn’t easy but the knowledge that she was collecting important information helped.

“My job was to find out as much as I could about their plans and write it down. By the end, the insides of the clothes I was wearing were covered in notes, as was my skin.

“They had a no using the merchandise rule, you see. They couldn’t take my clothes off or anything like that,” Yaz said, “but that didn’t stop them grabbing or hitting us. I felt bad for the women who were there longer.” Yaz ran a hand through her hair, at this point she was laying on the sofa staring up at the ceiling, “I had this one bloke grab my arse every morning. It was horrible. This other guy hit me because I was in his way. He didn’t ask me to move, just hit me.” Yaz turned to look at Dr Ivory, her face was mostly concerned, but there was a flash of anger in her eyes.

“I can’t begin to imagine how horrible that must have been,” she said gently.

“It wasn’t fun, I tell you!” Yaz laughed, “But hey, it was alright in the end. They’re all going to prison for a long time.”

“Is that comforting?”

“So comforting.”

After two weeks was up the police came and raided the house Yaz was in. Yaz’s notes were read and teams raided the remaining six houses. It was over so suddenly Yaz could scarcely remember any of it. She was malnourished and tired by that point, though, so that had played a part. Her clothes were taken for evidence and photos of any notes she’d written on herself were photographed.

“Would you do it again with the knowledge you have now?” Dr Ivory asked.

“If it meant saving lives, in a heartbeat."


	8. A Conclusion and Family Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd post another chapter sooner as the last one was a little heavy and shorter.

“We haven’t seen you for so long!” Yaz’s mum said sadly.

“Mum. You saw me a week ago.” Yaz pointed out.

Her mum sighed loudly, “But we didn’t see you for a month before that! Please come over, love.”

It was Monday. Yaz had been home for a little over a week. Her mum had called that morning, waking her up, asking if she’d come over for dinner. Yaz loved her family, she really did, but they also drove her insane.

“What if I have plans?” Yaz protested. She didn’t have to see her mum’s face to know the expression she was pulling. It was her “You really think I’ll believe that?” face. Yaz decided to give in sooner rather than later. She wasn’t winning and she knew it. So did her mum.

“Fine. I’ll come over.” Yaz sighed.

“Don’t make it sound like such a chore! We miss you, Yasmin.” Her mum added gently. Yaz wondered what it was about mum’s that meant they were so good at convincing you to do what they wanted. Practice, probably.

“I’ll be there for around 6:00, okay?” Yaz said.

“Okay, see you soon, dear. Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” Yaz replied and hung up. Yaz was currently laying on her sofa wearing a towel having got the phone call from her mum moments after getting out the shower. The next step was trying to find the enthusiasm to get up and start her day.

Just as she went to stand, her phone buzzed. Yaz picked it up to look; a message from Jo. She opened Whatsapp to see what it was. Jo had taken a selfie to show Yaz that her shop was empty and she was bored.

**Yaz:** Jo. You’ve been open for 10 minutes.

**Jo:** And no customers!

**Yaz:** People have jobs, Jo.

Jo replied with an annoyed emoji which made Yaz smile. She decided to send a selfie back.

**Yaz:** Well, I’m currently trying to summon the energy to move.

**Jo:** Nice towel.

Yaz laughed out loud. She wasn’t sure why those two words were so funny, yet somehow, coming from Jo, they were.

**Yaz:** Thanks. It was really cheap.

**Jo:** Ikea?

**Yaz:** Yep.

**Jo:** Love Ikea.

**Yaz:** Same. So good. I’ll talk later, okay? I need my morning coffee.

**Jo:** You must spend a fortune on coffee…

**Yaz:** Yeah but I pay for like three weeks worth with one hour of work soo…

**Jo:** Damn, get you.

**Yaz:** I’m good so can afford to charge a lot. Stop distracting me, I need to go.

**Jo:** But I’m bored!!

Yaz replied with a sarcastic pouty selfie then put her phone down to get dressed. She and Jo had been texting daily since the date on Thursday. They had plans to have lunch together tomorrow which Yaz was really looking forward to.

Yaz walked into her bedroom and grabbed a shirt and jeans to wear. She was meeting a new client after breakfast so she wanted to at least look slightly presentable. 

* * *

At 10:15 Yaz finished her breakfast and power walked home to meet the new client at 10:20. She was cutting it close, but she and Bill had got distracted talking about this indie film Bill wanted Yaz to watch.

When Yaz arrived at her block of flats there was a man stood outside. He looked vaguely familiar…

“Robert?” Yaz said, shocked.

Robert Parson turned to face Yaz properly, “What?”

Yaz walked right up to him, “You’re Robert Parson.”

Robert looked confused, “No… I’m Peter Raymond. We spoke on the phone,” he pulled out his wallet and showed Yaz his ID. It did say Peter Raymond. But Yaz didn’t forget a face, this was Robert Parson.

“Follow me,” Yaz said. She punched in the door code and led Robert upstairs to her flat. She unlocked the door and gestured for him to go in first, “Take a seat, I’m getting my laptop.”

“You are Yasmin Khan, right?” Robert asked slowly.

“Yep,” Yaz called from her bedroom where she’d left her laptop. She opened it up to make sure she’d closed all her tabs and went into the living room, “but you’re either lying to me or Mrs Chan.”

She sat down next to him then opened the photo she’d taken of him kissing Mrs Chan. Robert’s face darkened, “Where did you get that?”

“I took the photo. Did you not see the Asian girl with big glasses pretending to read last week?” Yaz asked.

“I knew you looked familiar,” Robert said coldly, “why did you take this?”

“Because my client Mr Eric Chan was concerned his wife,  _ Mrs _ Wei Chan was cheating on him. And he was right.” Yaz pointed aggressively at the photo.

“Wei never said she was married,” Robert protested.

“No? What about the other women in your  _ feminist  _ book club? Are you banging them, too?” Yaz accused.

Robert grit his teeth, “Look. If you must know. It’s a… relationship club. The book club is a front.”

“I’m sorry,” Yaz said, “a  _ relationship _ club? Is that some kind of romantic gang bang?”

“Kind of,” Robert muttered.

“I was kidding!” Yaz was very confused, “Alright, Robert, explain.”

“My real name  _ is _ Peter. I used the pseudonym so my work didn’t find out. Polyamory isn’t widely accepted,” Peter explained.

Yaz scoffed, “Neither is adultery.”

“I didn’t know she was married. As far I am aware the married women in the group have consent from their husbands.” Peter explained, “We meet once a week as a group to chat, drink wine, have a nice time. I meet up with the women individually, too.”

“So you just have eight girlfriends?” Yaz asked.

Peter shrugged, “I suppose, yeah.”

Yaz tried to process everything, “Fine. You do you. But I can’t take your case. Conflicting interests. Because I worked for Mr Chan I may have some subconscious bias towards you so it’s best you find someone else.”

Peter nodded, “Okay. Well, thank you for meeting with me.”

“It was… something. Goodbye Mr Raymond.”

Yaz walked Peter out of her flat and shut the door. She just stared at the space where Peter had been moments earlier. Part of her was glad to know what the feminist book club was, the other part was just very confused.

* * *

 

“So he just had eight girlfriends?” Sonya asked over dinner that night.

Yaz nodded, “Yeah! Alright for some!” That got her a disapproving look from her mum, “Sorry Mum.”

“Seeing as you brought it up, is there a man in your life?” Her mum asked hopefully, “Or woman, of course.” She added quickly.

Yaz’s family was as accepting as they come. When she came out as bi at 18 they were happy for her and made sure she knew they would love her no matter what and all that reassuring stuff. But they were fighting several years of conditioning and would sometimes slip up like her mum just had. Yaz didn’t mind, they made an effort and that’s what mattered.

Accepting as they were, Yaz wasn’t quite ready to tell them about Jo. She wasn’t even certain what was happening with Jo anyway. They were flirting, sure, but Yaz never liked to assume anything unless it was said out loud. Their current arrangement was good fun, so Yaz wasn’t in a rush.

“Happily single, sorry,” Yaz replied. She put a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth in hopes that meant no more questions about her love life.

“You work too much, that’s the problem,” Sonya said, “and never socialise.”

Yaz glared at her sister, “I socialise plenty, thank you. I go to GG’s daily and chat with people there. Newspaper Man even said hello today!”

Yaz’s dad raised his eyebrows, “Did Grace spike his coffee?” He joked.

“That’ll be it,” Yaz grinned.

“GG’s doesn’t count. Do you have any friends other than the people there?” Sonya teased.

Yaz spun pasta around on her fork, “Yeah. You just don’t know them.”

“That means they don’t exist,” Sonya replied.

“Leave Yaz alone,” their mum told her, “she’s just worked a very hard job.”

Sonya was six years younger than Yaz and currently studying to be a masseuse. Since moving out their relationship had improved as they were no longer forced to see each other, but Sonya seemed to be set on being annoying tonight. Probably her way of showing Yaz she’d missed her.

“Speaking of, are you ready to talk about that yet?” Her dad asked.

Yaz looked into her food, “I’m still processing it. Therapy went pretty well, though.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” her mum said, “we’re here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks. Those people were really nasty,” Yaz laughed softly, not because it was funny but because it wasn’t.

Her dad placed a comforting hand on her arm, “They didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

Yaz felt the unwanted hands on her again and had to suppress a shudder, “No.” She lied. In truth, they had manhandled her like she wasn’t a person, but her parents didn’t need to know that. 

When Yaz went undercover she knew what she was going into. It was a sex trafficking organisation, of course, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. For a week she had been ignoring it all. She didn’t need to think about it. What she really wanted was for life to be normal again. But then she’d had her that therapy session and was forced to deal with everything.

Going to bed hungry, not being sure if one of the men would get handsy with her or not. While they couldn’t “use” them, they were still horrible to all the women. Yaz forced the memories back down. She was only going to face those on Fridays for therapy. Every other day they could be ignored.

“Are you sure?” Her mum pressed.

“Yeah. They weren’t allowed to touch us,” Yaz said.

The look in her parents’ eyes was one Yaz hated. It was the way they always looked when she did a dangerous job. The need to protect their daughter, but not being able to.

“Can we not talk about this?” Yaz asked softly, “Let’s talk about Sonya, how’s college?”

Putting the focus on Sonya always worked because Sonya’s favourite topic was herself.

The rest of their dinner was spent talking about much more mundane things. Her dad’s latest mad theory (Yaz was sure he and Ryan would get on great), Sonya’s college drama which there was never a shortage of, her mum’s job as a front of house manager in a gorgeous new hotel.

After dinner, they all sat down to watch TV. Her family had apparently decided to rewatch Friends on Netflix so that’s what they did. It was nice.

Eventually, it was time for Yaz to drive home so she hugged everyone tightly to say goodnight and headed to the car. As she sat down in the driver’s seat her phone buzzed. She checked to see what the notification was and smiled when she saw it was Jo.

**Jo:** Hey, hope family dinner was good. I’m feeling a bit lonely, want to come over for wine and a cheesy rom-com?

**Yaz:** Definitely.


	9. No Really, Staff Only

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fluff!

Lafit was dark when Yaz arrived, but the lights in the flat above were on. Yaz rang the doorbell and waited, rocking from the balls of her feet to her heels and back again. She wasn’t waiting long before the “ **Staff Only** ” door swung open and a hand reached around the door to turn the lights on. And then there was Jo. She was wearing a spotty dressing gown and purple slippers.

Jo walked over to the door and unlocked it to let Yaz in, “Hey!” She said cheerfully, opening her arms for a hug which Yaz gladly accepted. Jo smelled of peppermint tea and wine, the smell was so comfortingly  _ her _ .

“Hey,” Yaz replied into her shoulder.

“C’mon. I was gonna watch The Holiday,” Jo released Yaz from her hug, “Cause, you know, it’s Christmas in like… a month.”

“Go on then,” Yaz agreed, “Kate Winslet is pretty hot.”

Jo let Yaz in and looked the door, “Isn’t she just?” Yaz followed Jo up to her flat. The stairs led up to a small landing with a door marked “ **No really, staff only** ” which made Yaz chuckle quietly to herself.

Jo pushed open the door to let Yaz in. Jo’s flat was so  _ her _ . It was slightly messy, but not a mess. It was untidy in a charming way rather than the “I want to leave now” way Yaz’s bedroom was. Perhaps Jo’s bedroom was as bad as Yaz’s… Yaz quickly pushed all thoughts of Jo’s bedroom right out of her head. She wasn’t going there. Not yet anyway.

The living room was just the right size with a purple sofa and a black armchair which had a very fluffy looking blanket hanging over the back. The coffee table had several books scattered across it and a scented candle. Jo walked over to the table and picked up a lighter. She proceeded to light the candle, “Had to put it out while I came to get you. You know, to be safe.” As soon as the candle was burning again it became clear that was why Jo smelled like peppermint tea.

There was also a almost empty bottle of prosecco and a completely empty wine glass on the table. One of Jo’s walls was completely bookshelves. Yaz spotted a few titles she had at home, as well as what appeared to be the complete works of Dickens, Roald Dahl and Agatha Christie. Dotted around the shelves were the antiques that Jo had liked too much to sell. Along with all this, there was also a cute cactus.

While Yaz had been admiring the living room, Jo had flung off her dressing gown to reveal a David Bowie t-shirt and blue striped boxer briefs. Yaz looked back at Jo and slowly ran her eyes up Jo’s slim frame. She caught herself biting her lip and had to quickly stop before Jo turned around. Not that she would have, she was busying herself getting a new bottle of prosecco and another glass. The kitchen was pretty small and not super exciting; it was clear Jo put more work into her living room.

A distraction from Jo in boxers was needed, “They’re cool,” Yaz said pointing to the paintings on the wall either side of the TV. The looked very similar to Van Gogh’s style, but Yaz had never seen them before. Although she had to admit she wasn't exactly an expert on the subject.

“Oh yeah,” Jo nodded, putting the wine glass in Yaz’s hand and going to grab the nearly finished bottle of prosecco from the coffee table, “I knew a guy who painted like Van Gogh and asked him to paint me something. He did those.” Jo explained, “The one on the left is this little pub in the Netherlands that we went to once and the other is a forest in Germany that he thought was really pretty.” She emptied the prosecco into Yaz’s glass while she spoke.

“That’s really cool,” Yaz said. The two of them sat down on the purple sofa and Jo got up Netflix to watch the film. While she did, Yaz pulled off her boots so she could curl up on the sofa.

“I had such a crush on Jude Law when I first watched this,” Yaz said, shuffling to get comfy.

Jo laughed, “What happened to loving Kate Winslet?”

Yaz shrugged, “Didn’t know I was bi then.” Jo just nodded in response.

The night went past at high speed with a lot of prosecco and laughter. Slowly but surely Jo had snuggled up closer and closer to Yaz until she’d been forced to put her arm around her friend, not that she minded. At some point, Jo had grabbed the fluffy blanket. The feeling in the room was cosy. Exactly what Yaz didn’t know she needed.

It seemed that when Jo was involved the general atmosphere was warm and comforting. There was just something about her that felt friendly. They’d only known each other a week and yet here Yaz was at midnight curled up under a fluffy blanket with the quirky antique shop owner.

When the film ended Jo stood up to stretch out a bit. Yaz couldn’t help but glance at her exposed midriff. She had to consciously stop herself from making a comment about how Jo clearly worked out.

“Do want to watch another one?” Jo asked, looking back down at Yaz, “What?” She asked.

“What?” Yaz could feel her ears burning. Had her face given away what she’d been thinking?

“You’ve got an odd expression,” Jo leaned down to look Yaz in the eye, “can you not handle your Sainsbury’s prosecco?” She teased.

Yaz batted a hand at Jo, “Shut up.”

Jo flopped back down next to Yaz, “I will not,” she frowned, “seriously, you alright?”

Yaz nodded, “Yeah, I’m good. Might need to sleep, though. Had a kind of long day.”

“As long as you’re okay,” Jo put her head on Yaz’s shoulder, “that’s the important thing.”

“Yeah,” Yaz said softly, “I’m really good.”

* * *

Perhaps three bottles between them had been a bad idea. Okay, not perhaps. Definitely a bad idea. Yaz had made her way home about 1:00am and apparently fell asleep in her clothes on her sofa.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. While she’d always been a bit of a lightweight, when she was 18 she would have been absolutely fine right now. But at 26 that was too much wine. It probably didn’t help that Yaz drank less now than she did at 18. Her already low tolerance wasn’t what it used to be. She wondered how Jo was currently doing.

Despite the hangover, Yaz was still up at her normal time. First things first, though. She needed a shower. Just  _ something _ to make her feel a little more human. Yaz ran the previous night’s events through head trying to remember if she’d done anything embarrassing while in the company of her gorgeous friend. When nothing came to mind she hoped that Drunk Yaz had kept her chill for once.

At her usual time of 9:30am Yaz pushed open the door to GG’s. It wasn’t too loud which she was very happy about. Yaz plodded over to the till to pay for her breakfast. Grace raised her eyebrows at Yaz when she got to her, “Late night?”

“Not that late,” Yaz replied, “just a lot of prosecco… Doctor Smith can drink me under the table.”

Grace laughed, “Oh? Have a good time?”

Yaz nodded, “Yeah. We watched The Holiday.” Yaz tapped her card to the reader to pay, “I am fairly certain I behaved myself.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Grace said kindly, “you’re a very polite drunk. When you came to our’s for New Year’s you insisted on doing all the washing up.”

“Oh yeah… I did do that, didn’t I?” Yaz laughed. She walked to where her tray was waiting for her and picked it up, “I had fun and that’s the main thing.”

“Exactly,” Grace agreed, “now, enjoy your breakfast, dear.” 

Yaz went over to her favourite table and sat down to eat. The one image Yaz couldn’t quite get out of her head was when they said goodbye. Her drunk brain had been yelling at her that a kiss goodbye was a really good idea but she’d managed to resist.

All her life Yaz had never been one to rush. She always befriended people at least a little before she got into a relationship, but now thoughts of kissing Jo ran through her head. There were other thoughts battling for attention but Yaz refused to entertain them. It was pretty clear there were at least some mutual feelings, Jo had kissed her cheek after their date. The fact that she’d agreed to go on a date at all was a pretty good sign, too.

Maybe she wasn’t even ready for a relationship yet? Her brain was still scrambled after all. Perhaps it’d be better to wait a little while. Jo didn’t deserve any bullshit Yaz might accidentally dump on her right now.

At least, for now, Yaz decided that she wouldn’t do anything. Friendship was good. Great, even. She enjoyed meeting new people and this was just like any of those other times. There were to be no longing stares at Jo’s midriff when she stretched or wondering what her bedroom was like. Yaz was, for want of a better term, friend zoning herself.

It’d be easy. She was a grown adult. When her mind was a bit better she would then be able to entertain the idea of something between herself and Jo, but for the time being she was going to be sensible. What could go wrong?


	10. Tikka Masala

The plan was going well. Yaz had toned down the casual flirting a little and when she and Jo had got lunch the day after their night of wine and cuddles they’d both been able to behave like friends. No flirty comments about showing up at restaurants naked from Jo. 

Yaz was now at the gym after her second therapy session. She was running to top speed on the treadmill to get her last 0.1 miles and reach six miles total. She didn’t want to push herself too hard to start off with, throwing herself in the deep end was hardly going to be good. But working out was a good distraction from everything and her fitness levels had dipped. A win/win situation.

Sweat dripped down her forehead as she ran, not too much longer... The counter ticked over to six and Yaz moved her feet to the sides of the machine to catch her breath. She’d really gone for it the last few minutes. 

When Yaz stepped off the treadmill she was met with a brick wall of a man. He was very tall and could undoubtedly bench press Yaz like she was a toothpick. He said something but Yaz didn’t quite hear so she took out her earphones.

“Sorry?”

“I said that was impressive,” he repeated. Was this man trying to flirt with her? “You could probably even keep up with me.” He added with a smile. He was definitely flirting and doing a bad job of it, too.

Yaz grabbed her water bottle, “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome. Most girls couldn’t so it’s a real compliment that I think you can,” he winked. Actually winked. After saying  _ that _ .

“I’m sorry, you think that’s a compliment?” Yaz asked.

The Wall nodded, “Yeah. Of course it is.”

Yaz wasn’t in the mood for this guy’s crap so decided to give him a piece of her mind, “Okay. Just so you know, telling a woman she’s better than other women is not a compliment. It’s really rude to all other women. Don’t hit on someone by insulting literally every other member of their gender. Also, don’t call us girls! We’re adults and it sounds a bit weird.”

He just stared at Yaz, “Oh,” he managed.

“ _ Also _ , don’t insult me, I could run circles around you,” she added and walked out of the gym. She was glad that had happened when she was finished so she could make the dramatic exit she felt her little speech needed. In her head everyone else in the gym had erupted into rapturous applause, their minds blown by Yaz's brilliance. In truth, most of them probably hadn't even noticed.

Yaz often wondered why people thought that was acceptable behaviour. All she could hope was that her speech had some kind of effect on the guy or even someone else who’d been able to hear her.

She put her earphones back in and walked home feeling triumphant. Men aside, it had been a good workout and Yaz was feeling more like herself again. That morning’s therapy session had been a hard one so putting her focus into something like exercise felt really positive.

When Yaz got home she went straight into her bathroom to run a bath. She’d earned it after all. While she was filling up the tub she received a text.

**Ryan:** Want to come over for lunch?

**Yaz:** Definitely. What are we having?

**Ryan:** Homemade curry. I’m trying out this recipe Nan made the other week. Hopefully it’ll be good as her’s.

**Yaz:** Oooh. I look forward to it!

**Ryan:** It’ll be ready about 1.

Yaz grinned. Ryan was actually a really good cook. He’d been learning from Grace for the last few years after he moved out and got bored of pasta, beans on toast, and omelettes. To his credit, he was very good at all of those.

Because of this Yaz was often guinea pig for all the new recipes he tried out. It meant free food so Yaz was not going to complain. He’d made a lasagne once that was better than any Yaz had had before and any she’d had since. Ryan didn’t dare make it again in case it was a fluke.

While the bath was filling up Yaz looked through her bath stuff drawer. It was far too empty, she only had one item left. She picked it up and unwrapped it to reveal a Twilight bath bomb from Lush. That’d do nicely.

She carefully dropped it into the bath and watched it fizz. A good bath was definitely what she needed after her morning. Something to soothe her muscles and her mind.

Once the bath was full Yaz went into her bedroom to retrieve a candle, to make her bath more like a mini home spa of sorts. She picked up a lavender one that was nearly finished then returned to the bathroom. She lit the candle with the lighter she kept in a drawer for this reason.

Yaz flicked off the light so it was more atmospheric, undressed then slipped into the steaming water.

Her whole body relaxed and the water warmed her near permanently chilled bones. Yes, this was exactly what she needed.

She decided music was needed so grabbed her phone from her hoodie where she’d left it on the floor and put on Iron & Wine, a band she’d stumbled across on Twitter.

The music filled the air, completing the vibe she’d created. It was bliss.

Half an hour later Yaz decided she ought to get dressed to go to Ryan’s. She stepped out of the bath and wrapped a towel around herself, then scooped up her gym clothes to dump in her washing bin.

Yaz walked through to her bedroom and got dressed. Seeing as she had nothing better to do, Yaz headed to Ryan’s a little early. He wouldn’t mind.

After making sure she had her keys to get back into her flat, Yaz walked downstairs to Ryan’s flat. As she got closer the scent of curry grew stronger. It smelled delicious.

She knocked on the door, “Door’s open!” Came Ryan’s shout so she let herself in. The curry smell was much stronger inside the flat, it was making her stomach rumble.

Ryan’s flat had the same layout as Yaz’s but flipped. He’d decorated it with blues and greys with the odd black accent. It was actually really nice, probably because he presented his YouTube news show from his sofa.

“Hey,” Ryan said, not looking up from cooking, “you alright?”

“Pretty good,” Yaz replied. She walked into the kitchen to help herself to a glass of orange juice - Ryan always had a carton in the fridge.

“Good, good,” Ryan nodded.

“You?”

“Yeah. Was doing some editing before I really fancied a curry so decided to go to make some,” Ryan explained, “I didn’t have any rice so I had to go to the shops. Cold out there.”

“It is the middle of November, Ryan.” Yaz pointed out with a smile.

Ryan shrugged, “I s’pose, yeah. Anyway, I got rice then saw they had doughnuts on special offer so now I have two packs of five doughnuts...”

“Wow. That’s a lot for just you,” Yaz laughed.

“I know, that’s kinda the main reason I asked you over.”

“You mean it wasn’t because I am brilliant company?” Yaz feigned offense.

Ryan shrugged again, “Sorta that too. But mostly the doughnuts.”

“I like doughnuts so I’m not too offended,” Yaz teased. Yaz peered over Ryan’s shoulder, “What kind if curry are you making us?”

“Tikka masala,” Ryan replied cheerfully, “me nan’s recipe is so good.”

“Ooh, is it that one she made during the summer?” Yaz asked hopefully.

Ryan nodded, “Yeah. We hadn’t had it since but then she made it last week. Obviously had to get the recipe from her this time.”

Grace was sort of a genius when it came to food. She knew exactly how to make a classic her own. She had written all the recipes for the food that was sold at GG’s and the team took it in turns to cook everything. Everything apart from the cakes. Grace always made those. GG’s was renowned locally for their cake. The lemon drizzle was Yaz's personal favourite. Grace had made it for her birthday that year.

Before long their lunch was ready and the two friends sat down at Ryan’s small table to eat. It was as good as Yaz remembered Grace’s being. Perhaps better, even.

“We need to do this more,” Yaz said shovelling food into her mouth. Part of her wanted to savour it, the other part was very hungry.

“What? I make you lunch?”

“Well, yes, but I meant hang out properly. We don’t do it enough anymore.” 

Ryan pulled a face, “Because someone is always out solving crimes.”

“Not all of us can talk about conspiracies and call it a job, Ryan,” Yaz teased.

“Hey!” Ryan protested, giving Yaz a light kick under the table, “I make videos about the news, too.”

“Yeah but the conspiracies are the money makers.”

“Okay, yeah. They’re more fun, too,” Ryan admitted, “Oh yeah, speaking of work, how was that missing person case?”

A couple of days ago Yaz had been approached about a missing sister. She had apparently had plans with her brother but never showed up. Thing is, the girl, Patty according to her brother, was sort of wanted by the police.

Only sort of because it was her boyfriend who’d been caught dealing drugs, however, she was wanted for questioning. Patty, her brother had explained, knew a lot about the boyfriend’s business and if they caught her she’d probably allow them to bust it. The brother said she was worried she’d be arrested for being involved.

“Even though she wasn’t! She just dated the guy,” he’d insisted.

This was where Yaz came in. The brother wanted Yaz to find her and convince her to dob her boyfriend in. Her brother felt like this guy was ruining her life and if she just went in for questioning she’d be rid of him.

“I found her,” Yaz said.

“Nice! Let me guess, you can’t tell me anything about it because of  _ client confidentiality _ .”

“Eh. I can tell you, not really that exciting. Her brother came with me and we found her hiding in Norwich. We managed to convince her to make a statement against her now ex-boyfriend,” Yaz explained, “her brother told me he’d let me know what happens. I was curious so I asked.”

“Okay, you realise I have no idea about the other details so that only half made sense?” Ryan laughed.

“Oh yeah. The other stuff is private. Sorry.” Yaz shrugged apologetically, “Just know I smashed it. That’s the important part.”

“Well done,” Ryan grinned.

Yaz finished off her curry, “When the guy came to me about a missing person I was pretty nervous,” she admitted.

“Hey,” Ryan said softly, reaching across the table to give Yaz’s arm a squeeze, “you’re like the strongest, most badass person I know. You can get through this.”

_ Can I though? _  That thought played in Yaz’s mind every time anyone told her she was strong and that she could "get through this". It was the hardest thing she’d ever been through and hopefully the hardest she’d ever go through. Her head hurt from memories and she would wake up feeling scared and like she was back in that damp building.

Logic told her she would be okay. She had survived. It was over. She wasn’t going back.

Yaz forced herself into the present. She was sat opposite one of her favourite people having just eaten a fantastic lunch. And, above all, she was safe and home. Ryan was looking at Yaz with his gentle eyes, “When was the last time you took a holiday?” he asked suddenly.

“Uh,” Yaz squinted, trying to remember, “... like five years.”

“That’s much too long,” Ryan declared, “you need to go away somewhere nice and preferably hot, too.”

“I do, do I?” Yaz laughed.

“Yeah. By the end of this weekend you had better have booked something.”

“Yes sir,” Yaz replied with the most sarcastic salute she could.

The pair spent the rest of their day watching comedy specials on Netflix and eating doughnuts - the perfect end to the day as far as Yaz was concerned. They didn’t talk about work. Yaz didn’t want to. That evening was meant for relaxing only. And it was so good.

* * *

_ THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! _

Yaz was jolted awake in the middle of the night by a loud knocking at her flat’s door. It was urgent. Yaz’s heart beat so hard she thought it might fly out of her chest.

_ THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! _

She looked around her room for something to use as a weapon. Her eyes fell on one of her boots. She slowly made her way to the door wielding the boot.

_ THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! _

The knocking was getting more and more urgent. Whoever it was wanted Yaz’s attention. Yaz’s heartbeat was deafeningly loud in her ears. Anxiety shot through her. She kept telling herself it was fine. Perhaps it was Ryan?

_ THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! _

Boot raised above her head Yaz reached the door. She slowly unlocked it and pulled it open to reveal the cause of the knocking.

Stood there with wild bed hair and even more wild eyes was Jo. She was wearing her dressing gown and trainers and had her hand raised to knock again.

“Jo? What are you doing here?” Yaz asked, her boot wielding hand dropped to her side.

“Someone broke into the shop,” Jo said, her voice wobbled with fear, “I’ve been robbed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh shit!


	11. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it'd be mean if I left a long wait between these chapters, so here you go!

“What? Come in!” Yaz said, gesturing for her friend to come inside, “go have a seat. I’ll make tea.”

Jo walked into the living room and sat down on Yaz’s sofa. Her normally full of life face was tense and cold. She didn’t just look scared, she looked angry. Jo rubbed her face with her hands in a stressed motion then looked at Yaz who was now in the kitchen, “Don’t happen to have anything stronger?” She asked.

“Uh, let me check,” Yaz looked in her fridge to find she didn’t have any open bottles. She then checked her drinks cupboard and found a single bottle of Jack Daniels which she held out for Jo to see, “how’s this?”

“That’ll do.” Jo nodded.

Yaz grabbed a glass and walked over to Jo. She poured her a glass to the whisky which Jo took gratefully.

There was nothing quite as unnerving as someone who normally seemed so strong and able looking weak and scared. Yaz wasn’t really sure what to do so she settled with placing a hand on Jo’s leg and giving it a gentle squeeze, “What happened?” she asked softly, making sure to keep PI Khan out of her voice. Jo didn’t need an investigator right now, she needed her friend.

“This is gonna sound mad but I need you to believe me,” Jo replied staring into her glass. Yaz could see the muscles in Jo’s jaw moving as she clenched and unclenched it repeatedly. She was clearly very stressed.

“I will try,” Yaz replied, now a different kind of worried about her friend.

Jo downed her whisky, put it down on the coffee table, topped it up but didn’t drink anymore, just left it there. She then turned her whole body to face Yaz, “Okay. Here goes. Magic is real. Those fairytales you grew up with? All happened. Most politicians are at least a quarter goblin, apart from the President of America, he’s the reanimated corpse of a slug-person. While the moon isn’t _made_ of cheese, there  _ are _ cheese deposits deep underground. Oh and I am a 463-year-old caster - that’s what magic users are called.”

Yaz blinked at Jo. She was officially speechless. Of all the many things she had expected Jo to say that wasn’t even on the list. The stream of nonsensical information that had just left Jo’s mouth was crazy.

“You what?” She managed finally.

Jo reached for the whisky that was still sat on the table and pushed into Yaz’s hands. Yaz looked at it then drank it all in one gulp. 

“Better?” Jo asked.

“No,” Yaz stood up and started to pace, “either you’re mad or I’m mad. Or I’m dreaming!” Yaz slapped herself in the face a little harder than she’d meant to, “Okay. I’m not dreaming. So one of us is mad!” Yaz went to the table and topped her glass. She returned to her pacing, taking a drink every few steps.

“Yaz,” Jo was just sitting watching Yaz pace up and down the living room, “I know it seems crazy, but it’s true.”

Yaz turned to look at Jo, “Prove it then,” she said, “if you’re a  _ caster _ , show me.”

Jo bit her lip, “That was the plan, but I need you to trust me because of what I need to do to show you.”

If that wasn’t a worrying sentence, Yaz didn’t know what was. Nevertheless, she walked back over to Jo and sat on the sofa, “Against my better judgement I’m trusting you.”

“Thanks,” Jo replied gratefully, “I need you to lift up your top-”

“Is this some weird way to get me to have sex with you or something becau-”

“No!” Jo yelled defensively, “Of course not! You don’t need to lift it all the way up, just enough so I can see this bit,” she poked Yaz at the bottom of her ribs.

Not really in the mood to keep protesting - it was 4:00am after all - Yaz lifted up her t-shirt. It might have been the dim light but she could have sworn Jo’s pupils dilated at the sight of her stomach. Yaz felt smug despite herself.

This only lasted a moment before Jo went into action. She reached into her pocket and produced a stick. No. A wand. It was slender, silver and about 10 inches in length. It had an ornate copper pattern embossed into it. Even though she had nothing to compare it to, Yaz thought it was actually quite beautiful.

Jo placed the end of the wand on Yaz’s exposed skin, just about where her ribs ended and muttered something. Yaz felt a sudden hot pain, “Ow!” She yelped.

“Sorry,” Jo apologised.

Yaz looked down at her skin to see what Jo at done to her. In the spot where the wand’s tip had been, there was now a mark. It resembled a scar but slightly more purple in colour than a natural scar would be. It was a star shape with an eye in the centre. The lines were all sketchy and disconnected.

“What the hell?” Yaz whispered.

“It’s a sigil,” Jo said, “that one is called The Sight. It allows humans to see and experience the magical world.”

Yaz was staring at the new mark on her skin, “Can you remove it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, if you want me to,” Jo nodded, “do you want me to?” She added, worried.

“I don’t know,” Yaz took a deep breath, “this is a lot.”

“You’re actually taking it really well,” Jo said.

Considering what was happening at that moment Yaz was quite impressed that she hadn’t started to hyperventilate or passed out or anything like that. She was freaking out, sure, but not as much as she’d have expected.

“Do this often?” Yaz asked pulling her t-shirt back down to cover the sigil Jo had magicked onto her skin.

Jo did a half nod, half shrug motion, “I guess in the terms of a human lifetime, no, but if we’re talking within a caster’s life, yes.”

That sentence was when it hit Yaz that her new friend (and crush) was over 400 years old. She’d lived through wars and many, many major historical events. More than Yaz could even think of.

This woman had literal centuries on her. If she’d wondered about people she liked being too old for her in the past, those worries were now gone. The age thing was something that she had to process another time. Magic being real was enough to deal with for the moment.

“I see…” Yaz ran a hand through her hair and suddenly recalled something else Jo had told her, “hang on, the President is a _slug person_?”

“The reanimated corpse of one, yeah,” Jo nodded, “some American casters thought it’d be a really funny joke to make him and then he just continued to live and exist and well… it all got a little out of hand and now we can’t fix it.” Jo scratched the back of her head, “Us magic folk aren’t meant to get involved with human stuff.”

“It’s really weird you talking about humans like you’re not one,” Yaz said.

“Well, I’m not,” Jo replied. She took Yaz’s hands in her own, “Look. I know this is a lot to dump on you. I would understand if you wanted me to remove the sigil and make you forget anything even happened. But when I was woken up by the break in you were the only person I could think of to go to.”

Those words reminded Yaz why Jo was in her flat telling her all of this in the first place, “Oh my God, your shop! What happened?”

Something flashed across Jo’s face, Yaz wasn’t sure what, though. Jo took a deep breath, “Some very bad people broke in and stole a very special item. It wasn’t for sale, it was something I had on display. I know I  _ should _ have it locked up somewhere safe, but I had a lot of protection spells on the shop. You’d have to be really powerful to break them.”

“And these bad people were?” Yaz asked.

“Yeah,” Jo leaned her shoulder against the back of the sofa, she looked tired, “I don’t know who they were, but I know there was two of them because I sensed two magic auras fizzing in the shop when I came downstairs. By the time I’d got to the shop they’d teleported away. The front door was smashed in and there were several artefacts on the floor. Nothing I couldn’t repair, but still a devastating sight.”

Their hands were still entwined and Jo was idly playing with Yaz’s as she spoke. Her movements were anxious and on edge. Jo was being vulnerable with Yaz for the first time and the sight of her friend in pain hurt her. She hated seeing anyone she cared about upset.

“What did they steal?” Yaz asked.

Jo was rubbing Yaz’s thumbs with her own. She looked down at their hands as if she hadn’t realised she was still holding them, but she didn’t let go. She actually shuffled a little closer to Yaz so their knees touched. Yaz was now more aware that Jo’s dressing gown had moved to expose her thigh.

“Merlin’s wand,” Jo whispered. The words were so heavy even Yaz knew this was a very big deal and she’d only just been introduced to the concept of magic being real.

“As in Camelot Merlin?” Yaz asked.

“Yeah. He was a real wizard - we were still called witches and wizards back then - and remains one of the most powerful to ever live to this day. He only died last century. He was 1,602. I only met him a handful of times, but I can tell you he was well chuffed to live so long.”

“Does that mean Arthur Pendragon was real, too?” Yaz asked.

“Yeah, he and Merlin were really good  _ friends _ ,” Jo smirked.

Yaz frowned, “Are you saying Merlin and King Arthur were an item?”

“I might be,”

“What about Guinevere?”

“Oh yeah, she was there, too. They had one of the first polyamorous relationships,” Jo grinned, “yeah, they miss that in all the retellings of it. Merlin was always very offended that people never depicted his life correctly. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. I’ll tell you more about the polyamorous adventures of King Arthur later.”

“So, why is it such a big deal that they stole his wand?” Yaz asked.

“Because that wand is so powerful it could wipe out every living thing from Earth,” Jo said darkly.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Jo rested her head against the back of the sofa, “good news is they need the Solstice Stone to use the wand’s real power. The bad news is I don’t know where that is. I’ve been looking for it for years.”

“How did you get the wand?” Yaz asked.

“Merlin gave it to me in his will. Dunno why he chose me. Clearly a bad idea now it’s been stolen,” Jo muttered the last sentence. She looked down at their still connected hands and moved her fingers to be interlocked with Yaz’s.

Yaz freed one of her hands so she could reach up to Jo’s face and tuck her hair behind her ear. She left her hand cupping Jo’s face. Her skin was so soft but cold to the touch, the dressing gown she was wearing didn’t look all that thick now Yaz thought of it.

Jo leaned into Yaz’s hand, “It’s not your fault,” Yaz told her softly, looking into Jo’s hazel green eyes. She could see just how brilliant they were now they weren’t slightly masked by her glasses - she’d clearly forgotten them in her haste.

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Jo asked, “You’re so young yet you said that believing every word.”

“Because I know you,” Yaz replied. She let her hand drop to Jo’s hand again and they were knitted together once more. They fit with one another so well, “I know you’d never do anything to let that happen. You said yourself you had used protection spells. I doubt there was much more you could do.”

Jo smiled slightly, “Thank you.” Jo the leaned into Yaz and wrapped her arms around her in a hug, her head tucked under Yaz’s chin, “I knew you were the right person to come to.” She said into Yaz’s chest.

Without thinking Yaz gently stroked Jo’s hair, “Tell me how I can help to fix this.”

“Are you sure? It’ll be dangerous.”

“Certain,” and she was. Yaz hadn’t been so certain about anything in weeks. But right at this moment, she knew she’d travel to the far corners of the Earth for the woman currently curled up with her on the sofa. Rules and waiting be damned, someone needed her help and Jo was going to get it.

Jo pulled away to look at Yaz properly, “I’ll do my best to keep you safe. I can’t promise I will, but I  _ can  _ promise to do my best.”

“That’s all I can hope for,” Yaz replied, “and I’ll look after you, too. I know I’m only human, but-”

Jo pulled a face, “Don’t ever say you’re only human,” she interrupted, “there is nothing only about you. You are spectacular, Yasmin Khan.”

Yaz looked down at her lap, she didn’t know what to say. It was probably the best thing anyone had ever said to her.

“So. What do we do?” Yaz asked.

“We need to go to River.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have entered the "I'm in my element" phase of the fic. Magical realism is my favourite thing to write.


	12. A New Adventure Awaits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chuffed to bits with the reactions to the last chapter, so glad you guys like the twist!

It turned out when Jo said they needed to go to River she wasn’t just being Northern and saying “the river” she was talking about an actual woman. Professor River Song was a chemistry professor at Cardiff University. They’d agreed to discuss travel plans in the morning, as Yaz had been exhausted.

Jo had slept at Yaz’s on her sofa as she wasn’t too keen on the idea of going home. It had been then that Yaz discovered Jo had been completely naked under her dressing gown the whole time.

“I told you I sleep naked,” Jo said simply.

“I just assumed you would have at least put underwear on before coming here,” Yaz replied, or rather squeaked.

Jo had just shrugged at that.

That morning Yaz woke up with a slight headache and a dull pain where the sigil was. The pain was what reminded her of the events of the previous next. Jo really had revealed to her that magic was real. That had happened.

Not wanting to waste any time, Yaz got out of bed and went into the living room to find Jo fully dressed in her own clothes reading a book that Yaz definitely did not own. There was a brown satchel on the sofa which was sat atop a long grey coat.

“Morning,” Yaz said slowly, wondering how Jo had got in and out of her locked flat. Had she stolen Yaz’s key? Maybe she’d unlocked the door with magic?

Jo looked up from her book and shot Yaz one of her goofy grins, “Morning!”

“How- where did you get the book?” Yaz asked.

“Popped home while you were asleep,” Jo replied matter-of-factly. She stood up and put the book in her satchel.

Yaz watched her, she was acting like everything was normal, “Did you use magic to unlock my door?”

“No, no. Teleported.”

“Teleported.” Yaz repeated, “You can just teleport wherever you want?”

“Kinda,” Jo replied, “I can teleport anywhere I’ve been before. I need to be able to visualise the place in order to make the hop.”

“Right,” Yaz was finding all this information a little overwhelming at 8:30 in the morning.

“That said,” Jo continued, “if the place I want to go has anti-teleportation spells in place I can’t. Which is why we aren’t able to teleport to River’s - she has to personally authorise people hopping into her house. Also because you don’t have a teleport license so it’d be _super_ illegal.”

“A teleport license?”

“Yeah. Little card issued by The Union that says you’re physically fit to hop with a caster. We’ll get you one in Cardiff, there’s an office there.” Jo moved her satchel and picked up her coat which she then pulled on, obviously hinting that she was wanting to leave soon.

“So how are we getting to Cardiff?” Yaz asked.

“The SubterrestRail,” Jo replied with a grin.

“The what?”

“It’s a magic-powered underground railway system. Built when trains were first invented. It runs below the human underground and goes all over the country. Go get dressed, we’re going after breakfast.”

Yaz was surprised, “What already?”

“Yeah,” Jo nodded, “the thieves have a head start. I don’t know whether or not they have the Solstice Stone, so that’s a reason to hurry. No idea what they’re planning, but it can’t be good.”

Yaz walked to her bedroom and Jo followed. Jo stood outside talking while Yaz busied herself finding clothes. Except they were all gone. All of them.

“Jo?” Yaz walked out of her bedroom to find Jo leaning against the wall by the door with her satchel.

“Yeah?”

“Uhm. Where are all my clothes?”

“Oh!” Jo pushed past Yaz to get into her room, “So I packed everything. Sorry. Forgot. I was a little all over the place last night.” Jo walked over to Yaz’s backpack and picked it, “All in there.”

Yaz took the bag off Jo. It was far too light to have all her clothes in. Also far too _small_. Yaz gave Jo a look, “No way is all my stuff in here.”

“It is!” Jo insisted. She took the bag back and put it on Yaz’s bed. She unzipped it and gestured for Yaz to look in.

“I… it’s bigger on the inside?!” Yaz looked at Jo with wide eyes, her friend was looking very pleased with herself, “Jo! How?!”

“Pocket dimensions!” Jo grinned, “basically you can enchant pretty much anything to be a pocket dimension. Infinite space. You just reach in thinking of the item you want and hey presto! It’s in your hand.”

Yaz looked at her bag then back at Jo, “That’s mental.”

It turned out Jo had done a lot in the morning while Yaz was asleep. She’d packed all the food in both their fridges and put it in her satchel, collected Yaz’s toiletries, and any books from the shelves she thought they might want. Even the lioness was packed.

“I’ll pay you for your time, of course,” Jo said while Yaz was locking up her flat, “you’re coming with me as a detective, not just as a friend. That last bit is a bonus, though.” Jo added hastily, seemingly worried about offending Yaz.

“If you’re sure,” Yaz replied, “I’ll do you a discount.”

“Nonsense! I am paying you the full amount.” Jo insisted

Yaz turned to her friend, “It’s up to you, I suppose,” she said as she put her key in her backpack.

“Yeah, here’s a deposit!” Jo reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a giant wad of £50 notes.

Yaz stared at the money, “How much is there?!”

“It’s a week of 12 hours days worth,” Jo said.

“That’s… like… over £6,000!” Yaz squeaked.

Jo shrugged, “When you can literally make money it’s all sort of meaningless.”

“Wh- you can do what now?”

After a quick look around Jo pulled out her wand and tapped the wad of cash. It glowed purple before what looked like a hologram of the cash floated out of the original, like a ghost of itself. Jo plucked the hazy shape from the air and as soon as she touched it, it solidified. She’d just cloned money right in front of Yaz’s eyes.

The first thing that came to Yaz’s mind was, “Why the hell do you have a shop?!”

“Oh, casters come and buy most of the artefacts. They’re nearly all enchanted,” Jo replied, “I donate any human money I get to charity.”

Yaz just stared at the cash. It was completely and utterly mental. Magic was insane. This new way of life was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Jo shoved both wads of cash into Yaz’s hands, “Here, might as well take both.”

Still too dumbfounded to function properly, Yaz just took the cash and shoved it into her backpack. Why ever work again when she had a friend who could clone money? Sure it was illegal, but there weren’t any laws saying you couldn’t clone cash with magic.

The two of them made their way downstairs to get breakfast from GG’s and so Yaz could bid them goodbye before she went off on her adventure. Jo clearly expected it to take a week at least so she may not be home before then.

Part of her felt bad for leaving again so soon, but the promise of fantastical adventures had convinced her easily. She was going to have a hell of a time with Jo, she was sure of it.

* * *

 

“That went well,” Jo said when the pair left GG’s to head to wherever the Sheffield SubterrestRail station was. Jo was leading the way and Yaz was just making sure she kept up. She had already accepted that she was going to be following Jo a lot on their adventure.

“I’m not sure _well_ is the word I’d use,” Yaz replied.

Ryan was not impressed that Yaz was leaving already when she hadn’t even been home a month.

“This isn’t what I meant when I said go on holiday yesterday,” he said grumpily.

Bill was a little disappointed but accepted it. She understood it was for work. Ryan did not. Well, he was choosing to not. He knew it was a work thing but the fact that Jo was going too made him sulk a bit.

“How come she gets to spend more time with you than I do? I’m one of your best mates!” He’d whined.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying her to spend time with me,” Jo piped up, “I’m sure she hangs out with you for free.”

Ryan had seemed pleased with that so finally shut up about Yaz abandoning him again so soon.

“I can actually text you this time, too,” Yaz had pointed out. It wasn’t like she was going undercover, she would be free to text and call her friends and family whenever she liked.

“Fine,” Ryan pretended to work after that.

Saying goodbye had taken a little while but they’d got out of GG’s eventually. According to Jo, the station was a half an hour walk away. Along the way, Jo was doing a magic Q&A for Yaz.

“Okay, what I want to know is when did that Audrey Hepburn story take place?” Yaz asked first.

“That would be… ‘63!” Jo grinned, “That was the year her film Charade came out. I got to go to the premiere.”

“So you were proper friends, huh?”

Jo nodded, “Yeah!”

During the 30-minute walk, Yaz learned more about the different fairy tales that she’d grown up believing to be fiction. Apparently, Jo’s parents had been guests at Princess Briar Rose of Sleeping Beauty’s birthday party. Everyone in the castle had indeed slept, but not for 100 years, in fact, it was only about 10.

“It’s where my parents met,” Jo smiled, “they were quite young at the time and went off to do their own thing for about century before they then settled down.”

Jo also explained that the real story of The Little Mermaid was actually about two men, but it had been “straight-washed”, Jo’s words, over the years.

“His name really was Ariel. When the Disney film came out all of the magical world was pretty shocked. A lot of us had known Ariel, you see. The unnamed prince in Hans Christian Andersen’s story was, in fact, King Frederick VI. Something history books leave out is how polyamorous people were,” Jo grinned, “Ariel didn’t go into the sea and die, he lived as King Frederick’s _“manservant”_ until they both passed away. Marie Sophie, the King’s wife, was in on it and very supportive.”

Yaz really wished this was the kind of thing that was taught it schools, but hearing Jo tell the stories having witnessed them first hand was also a delight.

“Okay, storytime is over,” Jo announced, “we’re here.”

“Here” was a very old building that looked like it was long abandoned. The windows were boarded up and there was a sign nailed to the door deeming it unsafe. Yaz didn’t doubt that for a second, it looked like it may fall apart if the wind blew a little too hard. But, despite the appearance, Jo walked right up to the door and pushed it open.

With no other option than to follow Jo into the death trap looking building, Yaz stepped inside after her.

There was a wall of warm golden light waiting on the other side which Jo walked through, Yaz right behind. Once through the light, Yaz was hit with the noise of a busy station. The architecture of the place was such a contrast to the outside building. Inside was far grander.

“The building has spells on it to repel humans without The Sight,” Jo told her, but Yaz was barely listening.

The station looked like something out of a period film. It was like a grand ballroom. The walls were ornately decorated with gold, the floor was polished wood and music from a little brass band filled the air. It was truly magical.

All around them people dressed in outfits from all different eras and countries rushed around going off down numbered corridors. The entrances had glowing signs above them, each saying they went to different places around the world.  Next to the entrances were timetables listing the next five trains that would leave from the platform.

Yaz looked at the sign above the nearest corridor, it stated the next train would be going to Manchester, then there’d be one going to Paris, following that would be Munich and after that London, Tokyo and finally Venise.

“Is there a system?” Yaz asked, feeling very overwhelmed by it all.

“Yeah, each platform has a number. This is Sheffield’s main station so it has 45 platforms in total,” Jo explained, “we just have to go and ask one of the ticket officers if there’s a train soon. And buy a ticket, of course.” Jo started to walk over to one of the many ticket offices, Yaz followed.

“And what if there isn’t a train to where you want to go?” She asked.

“Then you can request one. Trains are every 10 minutes and are staggered so there’s almost always a train arriving and leaving.”

“Right. Wow. I hope the service is better than East Midlands,” Yaz joked.

“We’ve been doing this a long time,” Jo replied. They arrived at the window of a ticket office where a woman wearing a smart black, paisley waistcoat was sat. She was doing something on what looked like a cross between a computer and a typewriter.

The woman smiled at them, “Hello, how can I help?”

“Hi! When is the next train to Cardiff?” Jo asked.

“Let me see,” the woman said. She tapped on the keys and examined the screen, “there is one in seven minutes on platform 17. Would you like to take that one?” She asked.

Jo nodded and pulled a purse out of her pocket. She took out four old fashioned looking coins and handed them to the ticket officer. The woman gave Jo two train tickets that also resembled ones Yaz had seen in old films.

“Have a safe trip!” The woman said.

“Thanks!” Jo replied and turned around to walk off, Yaz in tow.

Jo handed Yaz her ticket as they walked, “So how does magic money work?” Yaz asked as they walked, “I assume you can’t clone it like you can with human money?”

“Nope,” Jo confirmed, “that is super illegal. There are lots of charms placed on the money to stop people from copying it.”

They turned down a corridor with a large and ornate 17 next to it. The corridor itself wasn’t quite as ornate at the main station but was still nice.

“How long will it take?” Yaz asked.

“Oh about half an hour,” Jo replied.

“That’s fast.”

“Yeah, the SubterrestRail is incredibly efficient,” Jo said, “it only takes about three hours to get to Australia from London.”

“That’s mad!” Jo just nodded in response.

They arrived at the end of the corridor and stepped out onto a platform that was a lot less fancy than the main station. It resembled a tube station only cleaner.

Yaz was feeling very self-conscious and anxious. As far as she knew, she was the only human there. Actually, now they’d stopped moving Yaz realised some of the people didn’t even look like humans. There was a surprisingly handsome lizard-man talking on the phone in a language Yaz had never heard before.

Further down the platform was a small family of beavers, all dressed in actual clothes and standing on their hind legs. Yaz didn’t know how big beavers normally were, but these ones certainly seemed larger than the beavers she saw on the telly.

As if she sensed Yaz’s unease, Jo slipped her hand into Yaz’s and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, I’m here.” Her voice was so kind and soothing, Yaz felt her heart rate return to normal.

“Thanks,” Yaz whispered back.

“The train now approaching is for Cardiff, and will be stopping at Chesterfield, Derby…” A woman’s voice chimed through the air, but Yaz wasn’t listening, the train that was pulling up to the station was far more exciting. It looked like a proper steam train, but instead of smoke, a soft gold vapour poured out of the chimneys.

Yaz felt Jo tug her hand and lead her onto the train.


	13. Acquiring a License

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience folks! I've been ill and super busy lately. Enjoy the chapter!

The train journey had been relatively uneventful. They’d found seats fairly easily and no one had been difficult. Jo spent most of the journey telling Yaz about the time she went out for dinner with Shakespeare’s wife, Anne Hathaway before she was his wife. Apparently, they were very similar in age and Jo had briefly courted Anne before “Bill” as Jo called him came along.

They arrived in Cardiff a little after 11:30. The Cardiff station was different to Sheffield. It was made of light wood and had dragon carvings in the ceiling, “Because it’s Wales,” Jo said when she caught Yaz staring at them. They were slowly but surely moving.

Yaz followed Jo out of the station. Jo pushed open the door for the station and out of a wardrobe in what looked like a dressing room. On one wall was a mirror surrounded by bulbs with a dressing table and against the opposite wall was a well worn, red sofa. Then there was the wardrobe they’d just stepped out of. However, there wasn’t a door.

“Where are we?” Yaz asked looking around trying to figure out how they were meant to leave.

Jo walked over to the only wall that didn’t have anything by it and tapped it with her wand. A door seemed to grow into the wall from the point where Jo had tapped.

“We’re in the New Theatre,” Jo announced, “this is a hidden dressing room that was inserted when we had to relocate the Cardiff station after the old entrance was blown up during World War I. Well, we pretended it was blown up because a bomb was dropped on it and it’d look pretty suspicious if it survived. So we moved to here.”

“I take it there had been protection spells on the original building that stopped it from being blown up?” Yaz asked.

“Bingo!” Jo grinned and pushed open the door of the dressing room. They stepped out into a corridor with other doors dotted along it. Jo tapped the door they’d just left and it shrunk back out of existence. Jo then led the way out and down to stage door.

“How do you get away with having the entrance to a station in such a public space?” Yaz asked.

“Well,” Jo said, pushing open the stage door, “most casters just hop into stations. The entrances are pretty much exclusively used for humans. And most casters don’t befriend humans.”

They were hit by cold air when the stepped out of the theatre onto Greyfriars Road. Based on what Yaz knew of Wales, she was surprised it wasn’t raining. They walked along the street, taking in the sights. Said sights were mainly restaurants thus far.

“How come?”

“Too painful,” Jo said softly, “we don’t really age after a certain age, but you guys do. We interact with humans all the time, but never become proper friends.”

“Then why have you befriended me?” Yaz asked.

Jo stopped walking and turned to look at Yaz, “Because there’s something special about you. I don’t know what but I was hooked the second I saw you.”

Yaz felt her ears burn. She loved listening to Jo talk passionately about things (usually books, antiques or food), but she never expected to be the subject of that passion. She didn’t really know how to react.

“Is there a way to stop a human ageing?” Yaz found herself asking. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Jo chewed her lip, “Yeah. Merlin did it with Arthur and Guin. Thing is most humans struggle to live long. Your brains aren’t built for it. Eventually, you all ask us to remove the charm, some even request to forget they ever knew us. You’d need Merlin’s wand and the Solstice Stone to perform the spell, anyway.”

“Maybe that’s why the wand was stolen?” Yaz suggested, “To make a human age at the rate of casters?”

Jo frowned, “That’s a definite possibility,” she then shrugged and turned to start walking again, “anyway, we need to get you a teleportation license before anything else, so come on.”

Having no other choice, Yaz followed her friend down the street. As they went Jo explained to Yaz what getting the license would involve. It seemed simple enough. She’d be shot with a couple of spells to see how her body reacted, “Nothing that’ll hurt or leave any lasting effects.” Jo assured her. Then she’d be teleported from one end of the room to the other to see if she needed a nausea sigil, apparently, that was a common human reaction to teleporting.

And finally, she’d have to sign a document stating that she wouldn’t tell any humans about the magical world. Only casters were allowed to disclose that information. By signing the document Yaz was literally giving up the ability to tell a human without The Sight about magic.

Yaz felt a little weird about that, but she understood it was for safety reasons. God knows what humans would do with magic. The potential for bad outweighed the potential for good.

While Jo was telling her all this, Yaz realised something, “How come all our politicians are goblins, yet you’re not allowed to get involved with human society?”

“We have no control over goblins,” Jo replied bitterly. “They’re not actually a part of the International Magic Union. We tried to make a deal with them, but they weren’t having it. To humans, goblins look human, but to a caster or someone with The Sight, they very much do not. The only agreement we could come to was they wouldn’t completely ruin the human world. Which they’ve only sort of stuck with.”

“And what about the slug president?”

Jo laughed, “He thinks he’s human.”

The sheer amount of information Yaz had been taking in since the night before was slightly overwhelming, but she just wanted to know more and more. It was all so fascinating. Discovering that there was a whole other world running parallel with her own was so cool.

Based on what Jo was saying, “caster” was a name for anyone with magic and then there were sub-species of caster. Jo, for example, was a Gallifreyan, the only caster species that looked human without a glamour.

Now Yaz had The Sight she was seeing people who weren’t human everywhere. They walked past a man with blue skin and gills. He had clusters of scales in places and wore some kind of water version of an oxygen mask.

“You can glamour everything about your appearance,” Jo explained when Yaz asked why people did notice the water mask, “There two types of glamour. One that only works on humans, and one that works on casters, too.”

It seemed that there was a large caster population in Cardiff as they walked past several on their way to the license office.

Eventually, they arrived and Jo pushed open the door, leading the way in. The building they’d just walked into was a record shop. The person behind the counter was purple and had an almost feline face. Yaz looked them up and down which was when she realised they had four arms.

“Dr Smith,” they said with a smile, “who’s your human?” their voice was very feminine, as were their facial features but Yaz had no idea what gender looked like for this species. She only knew so far thanks to whispered questions to Jo. That tactic would be a bit obvious now.

Jo put a protective arm around Yaz, “Hi Hildyn. This is Inspector Yasmin Khan. We need a teleportation license.”

Hildyn sauntered over to get a closer look at Yaz, “Pretty thing…” they smiled a sickly sweet smile, “come this way.”

They led the way through the staff only door behind the counter into a very smart looking reception area. The walls were a cool grey and decorated with colourful abstract paintings. They stood out in the otherwise monochrome room.

Hildyn gestured to the sleek, black leather sofa at one end of the room. The pair of friends sat down, “Miss Maddox will be out in a moment,” they said before leaving to man the shop again.

Yaz turned to look at Jo. Her friend looked agitated, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I was hoping it wouldn’t be Hildyn working today. She gives me the creeps,” Jo sighed, “the other guy, Josiah, is delightful. He’s a loba, they’re a humanoid dog species. Jos is a lot like a puppy in nature, too.”

Yaz gently bumped her shoulder into Jo’s, “Oh well, unless you go making more human friends, you might not have to see Hildyn again.”

Jo definitely looked happy about that idea.

Thankfully they weren’t kept waiting for too long. A woman with short blonde hair stepped through the door at the opposite end of the room. She was smartly dressed and held a clipboard to her chest.

The badge pinned to her blazer stated that her name was Judy Maddox.

“Aah, Dr Smith,” hearing people call Jo that was really weird.

“Hey Judy!” Jo grinned. She stood up and extended her hand for Judy to shake, “This is my friend Yasmin Khan, she needs a license.”

Judy shook Jo’s hand, but her focus was on Yaz. She seemed to be assessing her. It made Yaz feel judged and slightly uncomfortable.

“I see,” Judy nodded, “come with me.” She turned sharply and head back through the door from which she’d just come. Jo gestured for Yaz to follow.

The door led to a long hallway with lots of doors. Some of the doors had windows which Yaz looked into as they went. They were all very boring, just offices.

Finally, Judy stopped and pushed open a door. Inside was an empty room. It wasn’t too big, but it didn’t feel cramped with three people in it. Judy walked in the middle of the room then gestured to Yaz to stand by her. Yaz did what she was told.

“Okay, I’m just going to perform a couple of stress test spells,” Judy explained, putting her clipboard out to the side and letting go. Instead of falling to the floor like it logically should have, it just hovered there.

“Okay,” Yaz said, prepared for whatever Judy was about to hit her with. Or so she thought.

“Ready?” Yaz nodded. Judy pulled out her wand and fired a green blast at Yaz. When the magic hit her it exploded, knocking Yaz backwards into a soft cushion of air.

Jo was watching intently, her hand in the pocket Yaz knew held her wand. Even though it was a controlled test and Yaz could see security cameras, Jo was ready to step in at any time.

“How was that?” Judy asked, taking her clipboard once more and extracting the pen from its little loop on the side.

“Uh, surprising, but not painful,” Yaz replied.

Judy wrote something down then suspended the board in the air again, “Ready?” She asked, Yaz once again responded with a nod.

This time the green magic that was fired at her made her skin shimmer green. It tingled, but it didn’t hurt. Judy watched intently, she seemed to be looking for something. What that something was Yaz had no idea.

Seemingly satisfied, Judy waved her wand again the shimmer vanished. She once again wrote something down, “Ready?”

The stress testing went on for another three spells, all of which were different.

“Okay, next step it to see how well you react to actually being teleported,” Judy announced, “go stand at the far left corner of the room.” Yaz did so, “Miss Khan, do you experience nausea when travelling?”

“Sometimes,” Yaz admitted, “mainly on buses.” Judy made a note.

“Are you ready? Your vision will go black briefly while you’re transporting but as it’s a very short distance you likely won’t notice,” Judy explained, “longer distances have longer periods of dark.”

“Got it,” Yaz nodded.

“Fantastic. After three then. One, two, three,” Judy shot green light at Yaz and suddenly she was at the other side of the room.

“Wow,” Yaz looked around, “that is so cool!”

Jo grinned having been uncharacteristically quiet for the whole assessment, “Isn’t it!?”

“How do you feel?” Judy asked.

Yaz thought about it for a moment. Her stomach did feel a little off, “I feel slightly nauseous, but not very.”

“It would be much worse on a longer hop so I will give you a sigil to stop it,” Judy walked over to Yaz, “where would you like it?”

“Does it not have to be near my ribs?” Yaz asked.

“What?” Judy looked confused, “No.” She turned to Jo, “Dr Smith have you been misinforming Miss Khan?”

Jo was looking her feet sheepishly, “Maybe.”

“Dr Smith, what have I told you about telling humans lies about sigils?”

“Not to do it,” Jo muttered.

“And?”

“Are you really gonna make me say the second bit again?” Jo whined. Judy just nodded, she seemed to be enjoying this. Jo sighed shortly, “And if I want a human to take their clothes off I should ask properly. I didn’t do that this time, though!” Jo protested.

Yaz was struggling to hide her smirk. Seeing Jo being shamed for being cheeky was quite cute, “It’s true,” Yaz chipped in, wanting to be at least a little helpful, “she just got me to lift my top up a little bit.”

“Dr Smith, you cannot go around misinforming humans for your own benefit,” Judy said sternly, “I do not want a repeat of 1856.”

“That was just a misunderstanding!” Jo protested loudly.

“Uhm, what happened in 1856?” Yaz asked.

“Dr Smith convinced a human that sex with a caster cured a common cold,” Judy said.

“It was a line! She knew full well that it was a line! Plus, she was interested regardless,” Jo folded her arms, “and I cured her cold! I kept the promise.”

Judy shot Jo a warning look, “It was Queen Victoria!”

“You shagged Queen Victoria?!”

Jo grinned, “Maybe.”

“Stop being so proud of yourself!” Judy scolded, “What if she had believed you?”

“As I told the judge at the time, she didn’t. She even testified and said she didn’t! She said she knew full well I was a lying trollop. Still not sure how I feel about being called a trollop in court by the Queen…” Jo mused.

“Anyway. Since then Dr Smith has been under strict orders to not use magic for her own personal desires just in case someone actually believes her.” Judy turned back to Jo, “It very illegal to use magic to get people to do what you want!”

“I am not having this argument again” Jo sighed, “I had consent the whole time, but The Union was monitoring me at the time because I’d been making a nuisance of myself. I was a little drunk and forgot this so told Her Majesty that as a caster I could cure her cold in the bedroom,” Jo folded her arms once more, “she challenged me and well, the rest is history.”

“It doesn’t sound nearly as bad when you put it like that,” Yaz said, “I was a little worried at first.”

“Thank you!”

Judy shook her head, “We have gone far off topic. Miss Khan. Where would you like the sigil?”

* * *

The two of them sat in The Little Man Coffee Company, a coffee shop that was relatively near the university. They’d agreed to meet River there as for some reason Jo was banned from the campus until the autumn of 2019.

“Are you actually just a renowned troublemaker?” Yaz asked after they’d sat down with their drinks. Yaz had been very pleased when they were happy to make her a hazelnut mocha.

Jo blew on her coffee and took a sip before answering, “Sort of. It’s mostly misunderstandings like that Queen Vicky thing.” She pulled a face when the steam from the drink fogged up her glasses.

“That did sound proper dodgy at first,” Yaz said.

“Yeah that’s because they never tell the story properly,” Jo pouted, “we’d been flirting for months and I was _finally_ bold enough to ask and it happened to be when I was being monitored because they were worried I was going to commit treason or something.”

“Were you?” Yaz asked with wide eyes.

“Of course not! It’s not treasonous to have sex with the Queen. Only the king’s wife, his heir’s wife, or unmarried daughter.”

“Why do you know that?” Yaz laughed.

“I did my research, I wasn’t gonna accidentally prove them right!” Jo replied.

At that moment the door to the coffee shop swung open to reveal a woman with wild, curly hair. She marched over to their table with purpose and grinned at Jo, “Hello sweetie,” she said then without warning leaned down and passionately kissed Jo.


	14. River Song

Yaz stared at the woman who she could only assume was River Song. Yaz was currently wondering when Jo had been planning on mentioning that she and River were a thing.

“H-hey River,” Jo managed when River finally stopped snogging her, “how are you?”

“Very well,” she said, “it’s been far too long, Doctor.”

Jo gulped, “Yeah, it has.”

River sat down in the empty seat at the table, “You really should make more of an effort to see your wife.”

“ _Your what?_ ” Yaz squeaked.

River turned to look at Yaz, “Hello, you must be Yasmin,” she smiled warmly, “has the Doctor not mentioned that we’re married?”

“She’d forgotten to bring that one up, yeah,” Yaz said, turning her gaze to Jo who was bright red and looked a bit of a state with River’s lipstick smeared on her mouth, “Queen Victoria was right, you _are_ a trollop.”

“Hey!” Jo protested, “I am not!”

Yaz raised her eyebrows, “You’ve been flirting with me, but you have a wife.”

“Yeah, River doesn’t mind, do you?” Jo looked at her wife for help.

River leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying this, “Not all. I do wish you’d visit more, though. I miss you.”

“Do you?” Jo said, sounding unconvinced.

“Yeah, a little bit,” River replied, “when my vibrator’s out of batteries and no one is currently interested.”

“River! Behave!” Jo gestured to Yaz who was feeling incredibly awkward. She had no idea what to say so was opting to not say anything at all. Whatever this was, was between Jo and River.

“Sorry,” River said to Yaz, “I will try to behave.”

“Thank you,” Jo sighed, “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about your sex life-”

“We’d be here all day if you wer-”

“RIVER!”

“Sorry.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Jo glared at River, “we need your help.”

And so Jo explained the whole situation. River scolded her for not keeping the wand in a safer place like a guarded vault.

“Who just has a vault and guards to hand!?” Jo exclaimed.

River rolled her eyes, “I’d hope someone who is entrusted with the most powerful wand in existence, Joanne.”

The two of them really did bicker like an old married couple. Yaz wondered how long they’d been married and why they lived in completely different parts of the country. It seemed weird to Yaz that Jo hadn’t even mentioned River before now. Neither of them wore wedding rings so there was no hint that Jo could have a wife.

“And so Yaz and I came here,” Jo said.

“What?” Yaz blinked, she had gone off into her own world, “Sorry, I stopped listening.”

Jo sighed with mock exasperation, “I said I went to your flat to recruit you and then we came here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Yaz nodded, “Jo said you’d be able to help.”

River smiled, “The Doctor always comes crawling back when she needs help.”

Jo was about to protest, but Yaz interrupted, “Why do you call Jo “Doctor”?”

“Oh because she refused to tell me her real name for the first year we were friends,” River replied.

“Okay, not quite how it happened!” Jo corrected, “It was World War I and I was helping the Union with negotiations. Thanks to the German representative actually agreeing with Hitler we got involved. The magic world tends to stay out of wars, but this arsehole had dumb opinions.”

“He was an utter idiot and we all hate him,” River agreed, “I punched him once.”

“Yeah, which was how we met,” Jo said, “because I had to break up the fight. Anyway, the Union insisted we all took on code names for our safety and I chose The Doctor.”

“Which was a very creative idea from the woman with a doctorate,” River drawled.

“Shut up,” Jo lightly punched River’s arm with a fond smile, “anyway, I had to use my code name any time I saw River until the war was over and she just kept using it.”

It was clear from the way the two women interacted that they were very fond of each other. Yaz found herself feeling a little jealous, but she did have 100 years of friendship to contend with. _100 years… Jesus,_ Yaz thought. It was mind-blowing to speak to people who were old enough to be friends for 100 years. It hurt her head if she thought about it too long.

“Okay, so what do you want me to do about your mistake?” River asked, putting them back on topic.

“Not my fault, I used a lot of protection spells,” Jo retorted, “but I hoped you might have access to some of Merlin’s books that could help us locate the wand.”

“Did he not leave you any?”

“No,” Jo crossed her arms irritably, “just the wand.”

“We have a few in the school’s library,” River said, “I can get them out for you, seeing as you’re still banned.”

“You’ve told Magna I’m sorry, right?” Jo asked hopefully.

“Yes, dear, as I tell you every time you ask. It’s why the ban was only 15 years unlike the originally planned 30 so don’t push your luck.” River scolded, “You’re lucky I married you, people like me.”

“I am thankful every day,” Jo grinned and kissed River’s cheek lightly.

Yaz was really starting to feel like a third wheel. She felt selfish for wanting to have Jo to herself again, but she couldn’t deny she was a little jealous. It wasn’t like anything had ever happened between the two of them, but Yaz was hoping something would more and more every day.

Now that she wasn’t going to be attending therapy for a little while at least she wasn’t going to actively be fixing her broken brain. That meant if she stuck to waiting like she’d told herself she would it’d be forever before something happened. Yaz didn’t really know what she wanted to do.

Well, right now she wished Jo’s arm was draped around her like it was currently around River. Yaz had felt safe in Jo’s arms. The two of them were discussing the books that might be needed to locate the wand. Yaz really did love listening to Jo talk.

“Earth to Yaz,” Jo said, “you okay?”

Yaz nodded, “Yeah, yeah, all good.”

“Cool,” Jo grinned, “you looked like you were in your own world again.”

“Magic stuff is a little overwhelming,” Yaz admitted, “I’m finding it hard to focus on for very long.”

“That’s understandable,” River said, “the last human I gave The Sight took time to adjust. You’ll get there, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Yaz finished her coffee then stared into the mug. Was she too far out of her depth? 

* * *

River lived in a small house about half an hour away from the university. It was nice. Surprisingly large considering River lived alone. It had three bedrooms, although one was an office and another was a library, they both had sofa beds so functioned as bedrooms.

Jo wondered around the living room, looking at things like she’d never been there before, but given that after River gave them permission they’d teleported there she obviously had. River had gone back to the university and instructed them to wait for her at her place while she did.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a wife?” Yaz asked, feeling brave.

Jo stopped her wondering and turned to face Yaz. She looked sheepish, “Because I like you and most people don’t react well when I tell them about River.”

“I just feel a bit hurt,” Yaz said softly, “it’s kind of a big thing to not mention, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry,” Jo sighed. She walked over to Yaz and took her hand, she interlocked their fingers, “I should have told you.”

Yaz’s heart was beating hard in her chest. When they’d held hands last night Yaz had been too focused on how wild the things Jo was telling her were, but now she wasn’t distracted. The closeness of her friend warmed her soul but made her panic at the same time.

“Can you explain your arrangement with River?” Yaz asked. She’d learned over the last 24 hours that casters were all pretty polyamorous, but everyone was different and she wanted to understand how it worked for Jo.

Jo nodded and led Yaz to the sofa so they could sit down. They sat facing each other like they had last night all the way back in Yaz’s flat. That felt so far away now.

“River and I have been married for 53 years. About 20 years in we decided to no longer be exclusive,” Jo explained, “at first it was just flings on the side, but then River got a boyfriend. He was lovely. That lasted a couple years, he even moved in with us. But they broke up.” Jo took a shaky breath, “I was really worried it was over with us because she took the split pretty badly. It actually made us stronger. After five years of being open, I asked if we could stop living together. I told her I still loved her but living together wasn’t working anymore.”

“That must have been hard to admit to yourself,” Yaz said gently. She rubbed her thumb against Jo’s hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“It was,” Jo smiled softly, “we made it work, though. We still wore our wedding rings for a few years after that then one time when we met up she wasn’t wearing hers and since then neither of us have. I still carry mine wherever I go. I think River does, too.”

Jo reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver ring. It had a date engraved into it, “1st of July 1965… still one of the best days.” Jo said, “River and I are so much happier now we live away from each other. Distance makes the heart fonder, right? She’s a constant in my life and I like that.”

Yaz looked into Jo's sparkling eyes that were staring back at her with so much warm.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Yaz didn’t know what to say or do. Jo looked down at their hands, once again entwined.

“I really do like you, Yaz,” Jo whispered, “you’re so strong and yet so kind.”

Yaz’s ears were warm, she didn’t know what to say, “I quite like you, too,” she whispered back.

This was it, the moment her heart had been yearning for. Yaz saw Jo’s eyes go to her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was so infatuated with Jo. She was a magical creature - literally, it turned out - who’d slowly been taking over all her thoughts, even when she told herself she had to wait.

VWORP!

The two friends leapt apart at the startling sound of River teleporting into the room. It was louder than Yaz remembered it normally was. Maybe it just seemed loud because it’d be so quiet?

“Hello,” River grinned brightly. She looked at how far apart Jo and Yaz were sat from each other, “you two alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jo said, flustered, “got the books?”

River nodded and reached into her bag. She started to pull out leather-bound books and handed them to Jo, “There were ten of his journals in total. Only teachers are allowed to take them out, students have to read them in the library.”

“How come you have magical books in a human university library?” Yaz asked. She took one of the books Jo had placed on the sofa between them. They looked old but didn’t feel fragile at all. Probably thanks to magic.

“Oh there’s a hidden part in the library you can only access if you’re a caster or have The Sight,” River explained. She’d taken all the books from her bag at this point. She dropped her bag next to the sofa then sat down on the floor by the sofa to look at the journals.

“I see. That’s handy,” Yaz said. She carefully opened the book. She didn’t expect to understand anything written inside, but she was curious all the same.

Merlin’s handwriting was messy but legible. The book Yaz had picked up seemed to be about magical creatures, “So unicorns are real, huh?” Yaz said with a grin. Five-year-old Yaz would have been so excited. Actually, 26-year-old Yaz was pretty excited. She’d had a unicorn phase at five and still had a soft spot for them.

“Oh yeah,” Jo nodded, “pretty much all the mythical creatures are real. You just need The Sight to be able to see them. In the 9th century, a caster decided to hide them as humans couldn’t be trusted. People were killing unicorns for their horns because they believed it could be used for medicinal purposes.”

“Which they can’t,” River grumbled, “but humans didn’t know. So magical creatures were confiscated.”

The rest of the day was spent with Jo and River skimming through the journals and Yaz learning all she could about the world she’d be exposed to. It meant she could stop asking Jo and River questions about everything.

She was so excited to read about the real adventures of Merlin. He referred to King Arthur as "Artie" which Yaz found adorable. For the most part, the book was very factual, talking about all the magical creatures, but Merlin added little anecdotes.

Yaz’s personal favourite out of all these was when he took Arthur to meet a dragon for the first time. The dragon and Arthur hadn’t liked each other very much at first, but Merlin convinced them to try and eventually they even flew the dragon together.

At about 7:00pm Jo announced they needed food so they ordered Chinese takeaway and put the journals aside for a while.

“My mind was going a bit numb with all the reading,” Jo admitted, “it’s a lot of information.”

“I was really enjoying reading about all the creatures,” Yaz grinned, “can we meet a phoenix?”

Jo smiled, “They’re mainly in warmer countries than this one, but sure.”

“I think there’s a sanctuary in Paris,” River chipped in, “there was in 1967. Remember? We went for our second anniversary.”

“Oh yes! Didn’t one sneeze on you?”

“Yeah,” River crossed her arms, “it singed my hair. It looked terrible!”

“Thank goodness for magic, hey?” Jo laughed.

When their food arrived they sat on the sofa watching Brooklyn 99 on Netflix as it turned out River hadn’t seen it. A tragedy as far as Jo and Yaz were concerned.

Jo was sat in the middle with an arm around both Yaz and River. It was cosy and Yaz was starting to feel a little better about everything. She buried her head into Jo’s shoulder and her friend pulled her in closer. It was nice. Really nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say I'm sorry for River interrupting Yaz and Jo, but I'm not.


	15. London Vaults

Yaz woke up in a bed she didn’t know. It took her a moment to remember where she was. River’s house. She was currently laying on a surprisingly comfortable sofa bed in the office.

She stared up at the ceiling. She’d had trouble getting to sleep as her mind had been buzzing with her almost kiss with Jo. They were so close but then River appeared and it didn’t happen.

The plan for the day was to keep going through the journals. River had a few classes to teach but would help when she could. She was taking a journal with her so she could work while at the university.

Yaz looked at her watch. It was 9:00am. She sat up wearily and looked around the office. It was nice. The sun was shining around the curtain, filling the room with a dim golden light.

Yaz climbed out of bed and retrieved a hoodie from her bag to keep herself warm then headed out of the room to the kitchen. She could hear voices, clearly Yaz was the last one up.

When Yaz got downstairs she found Jo and River sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

“Morning,” Jo said, “there’s coffee in the cafetiere if you want some.”

Not needing to be told twice, Yaz went right over to the cafetiere and poured coffee into the mug on the table. She picked up the milk bottle and sloshed in some milk. She sipped it happily. The best way to start the day.

River had just finished her coffee, “Right, I need to go to work,” she announced, “I’ll text you if I find anything in my journal. See you later.” She walked over to Jo and kissed her lovingly. Yaz felt envy fizz through her, but she pushed it away. She just had to accept that she was going to have to share Jo.

“Love you,” Jo said with a grin like a lovestruck teenager.

“Love you, too, sweetie,” then there was a VWORP and River was gone.

Yaz sat down at the table and looked at Jo who still had the lovestruck teenager look, “You okay there?” Yaz teased.

Jo turned to Yaz, “Hm? Oh yeah. I always forget just how brilliant she is until I see her.”

It was no secret that the two of them had shared a bed last night. Yaz had watched Jo go into River’s room. That knowledge had also contributed to Yaz’s sleep trouble.

“You’re a sweet couple,” Yaz said.

“Guess that’s what happens after 53 years together,” Jo shrugged and took a gulp of coffee, “so I may or may not have got your breakfast order at GG’s off Bill.”

“You didn’t?!” Yaz said excitedly.

“I did. I went out to the shops this morning to pick up the things River didn’t have,” Jo said standing up. She walked over to the fridge and pulled out a pot of yoghurt. While Jo made them breakfast, they discussed what they’d found out from the journal’s so far.

In one of the ones that Jo had been reading, they learned that there was a way of tracking the wand as Merlin mentioned doing it when his wand was stolen. But other than that he didn’t say much else in what they’d read thus far. It was a slow process, but it needed to be done.

“It’s so frustrating,” Jo sighed once they’d sat down to eat, “Merlin was so extra. Why couldn’t he just make it easy to find his wand?”

“Probably because it’s so powerful?” Yaz suggested.

Jo pulled a face, “Well. Yeah. ‘Course. But still. It’s annoying.”

“We’ll get there,” Yaz reassured her, “I do this sort of thing for a living, it takes time.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I brought you along, you’ve been a great help,” Jo smiled.

Yaz was surprised, “Really? I feel like all I’ve done is follow you around and ask questions.”

“That’s only because we haven’t done much detective-ing yet,” Jo replied, “this is the first detective-ing we’ve done and you’re doing great.”

“I’m mainly reading about animals,” Yaz mumbled.

Jo poked her arm, “Hey, you’re useful, okay? Don’t sell yourself short. Also. I’d get lonely without you.”

“What about River?”

“I’ll have to leave her here once we’re finished,” Jo said, “I get to keep you!”

Yaz couldn’t help but laugh. Jo was good at cheering her up. Her good nature and shining smile were enough to brighten Yaz’s day.

After they’d finished eating they returned to the living room to read once more.

Two hours in Yaz was wondering if she’d ever want to read again. Merlin didn’t half go on a bit. As interesting as it was, she was starting to want to read something else. But this was the job she’d signed up for. It wasn’t the first time Yaz had had to spend hours reading. Normally it was documents, but sometimes it was books.

Finally, they both moved onto different journals. Yaz was now an expert in magical creatures. The journal Yaz had picked up seemed to be about Merlin’s adventures travelling the UK. It was suddenly interesting again. Probably due to the content being completely different.

They took a break for lunch - spaghetti hoops on toast because apparently River kept spaghetti hoops in the house. Yaz had a feeling they were specifically for Jo.

“Proper fancy food in restaurants is good and all,” Jo said, shovelling food into her mouth gracelessly, “but you can’t beat spaghetti hoops on toast.”

Yeah, they were definitely for Jo.

It was at 3:40pm that they finally found what they were looking for. In a journal Merlin had written about creating spells he listed how he’d made the spell that allowed him to find his wand should he lose it.

“He is so extra!” Jo yelled at her book. She threw it down angrily, then swore loudly because they needed it and now she’d lost the page.

“What?” Yaz asked.

Jo was rifling through the book trying to find the page again, “We have to find the three parts of his bloody amulet! Then that allows you to track the wand. There we go,” Jo had got back to the page.

“Right. So we have to find the amulet first?”

“Yep,” Jo grumbled, “which means we need to consult his will which is in a protected vault.”

“Like River said the wand should have been in!” Yaz said grinning.

Jo smacked her arm, “Shut up.”

“Wait. Why is his will protected but he gave out all his possessions?” Yaz asked.

“Because like all gays he was such a bloody drama queen!” Jo exclaimed. She glared up at the ceiling, “You bastard.”

Yaz was finding Jo’s outrage hilarious and was having to make an effort to not laugh at her disgruntled friend.

“Okay. Well, we have a lead,” Yaz said, “next stop is the vault. Where would that be?”

“London.” Jo sighed, “But we can teleport this time because you have a license now. That makes life a whole lot easier.”

“Excellent. Shall I get my stuff?”

“Yeah, I’ll text River and ask her to meet us somewhere by the uni to say goodbye,” Jo looked a little sad, “shame the visit was so short.”

“We can come back to see her after we find the wand,” Yaz suggested.

Jo smiled, “Yeah. We definitely should.”

“And you’ve got me until then,” Yaz nudged Jo’s knee with her own.

“That’s true.”

* * *

“I’m not gonna get used to that,” Yaz said stumbling after Jo had teleported them to London. They’d gone to tell River they were leaving then left shortly after that. Jo was eager to make progress - it was a race against time and they couldn’t see the countdown timer.

They’d teleported into a small public bathroom. There was a symbol etched into the door and Yaz could only assume it was a sigil. It had the same sketchy disconnected look the rest she’d seen had. It was an eye with a cross through it.

“You will, don’t worry,” Jo said, patting her on the back, “come on, we have to go on the tube.” She then pushed open the door to reveal there were in a tube station.

“What?” Yaz was confused. Why were they taking human transport when she could teleport now?

Jo took Yaz’s hand and started to push through the crowds, “Super powerful anti-teleport spells within a mile radius of the vaults.”

“Oooh,” Yaz nodded. She glanced back at the door they’d come through. There was an “Out of order” sign taped to it. The sigil on the other side probably stopped humans getting in and she supposed the sign was a disguise of sorts.

While she was looking at it a man with solid red eyes and pointed ears stepped out. Yaz instantly turned her attention back to where she was walking. The man looked scary.

“Because people can’t teleport around it, housing near the vault is super cheap for casters,” Jo said as they made their way to the right platform, “normal London prices for humans, though.”

It took a little while for Yaz to figure out where they were but finally she saw a sign stating they were at Shepherd’s Bush. There was the odd person who was clearly a caster, but for the most part, the other patrons appeared human. That didn’t mean they weren’t using a glamour or Gallifreyan like Jo.

They reached the right platform and Jo released Yaz’s hand. They stood there quietly for a bit, Jo bobbing up and down the balls of her feet. She was restless. She had been since they found out they needed to see Merlin’s will.

Before leaving Cardiff Jo had called ahead to request permission to see Merlin’s will. They’d be reluctant to let her but when she said it was a matter of international safety they’d agreed.

“How come that worked?” Yaz asked when Jo had hung up the phone.

“Because every time I say that it’s normally because the world is about to end,” Jo replied matter-of-factly. Yaz decided not to ask any more questions about that one. She was concerned about hearing something she didn’t want to know.

Before long a train arrived and the two of them boarded. After the SubterrestRail the tube felt even dirtier and more unpleasant - Yaz hadn’t realised that was possible. She was spoiled by magic.

“When are we getting off?” Yaz asked.

“Oxford Circus,” Jo replied, “so seven stops.”

A few stops in they both got seats and Yaz took to reading the adverts to pass the time like she always did on the tube. Except they were different. For a start, they were animated!

“Jo,” Yaz whispered, “the adverts are moving!”

“Oh yeah!” Jo looked excited, “Now you have The Sight you get to see caster adverts!” She squinted and pointed at one that was boasting wand upgrades, “That company is shite, I can’t believe they’re still allowed to advertise on public transport.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Yaz asked. She was enjoying watching the animated woman cast spells. There was text saying things like “With Wanderous” and “Without Wanderous” when she cast the spells. It was all very exciting to Yaz.

“They don’t work,” Jo folded her arms irritably, “you spend an arm and a leg on them and they don’t actually enhance your power! The only thing that makes you a better caster is practice. Not fancy wand attachments.”

“I have one on my wand and it works so much better now,” chipped in a man with white hair and a bushy moustache.

Jo glared at him, “Do you get your wand cleaned and serviced regularly?”

“No, you don’t need to when you’ve got a Wanderous upgrade,” Moustache Man replied.

“See, people are  _ brainwashed _ by this nonsense!” Jo said loudly.

Yaz panicked, suddenly realising they were surrounded by humans. However, none of them seemed at all bothered by what they were saying.

“Should we be discussing this so loudly around humans?” Yaz hissed.

Moustache Man laughed, “Oh you’ve got a newly Sighted human! No, sweetheart, humans without The Sight have our conversation filtered. To them, we’re talking about a completely normal subject.”

“Oh,” Yaz looked at her hands feeling embarrassed.

Jo, however, was not happy, “Don’t you dare call her sweetheart!” She pointed an accusing finger at the man, “You do  _ not _ talk down to humans! Just when I think casters have stopped being so prejudiced against humans, people like  _ you _ appear.”

Now Jo had risen her voice properly people were looking at them. Even if what they were saying was completely normal sounding, they clearly still looked like they were having an argument.

“If you don’t get off on the next stop I am reporting you to the Union for hateful language towards humans,” Jo said coldly.

Moustache Man scoffed, “Calling a human sweetheart is not hateful,” he spat.

“No, but your tone was.” Jo hissed, “Get off at the next stop.”

Reluctantly the rude caster did as he was told. Yaz was shocked that that threat had worked. Clearly, words had more bearing in the magic world.

The following stop was theirs so the two of them stepped off the train and headed above ground. Jo handed Yaz an Oyster Card when the reached the gates, “It’s enchanted to trick the machine into thinking you tapped in,” Jo said, “because casters teleport a lot we don’t always tap in or out and they get a bit weird when you don’t.”

Yaz took the card and went through the gate, Jo was close behind. They walked up the steps and then out onto the busy streets of London. Yaz checked her watch, 7:00pm. Not exactly the best time to be walking around near Shaftesbury Avenue if you wanted to avoid crowds, but it couldn’t be helped.

As had become the way for them, Jo led the way through the crowds. Yaz hadn’t been to London for a couple of years, not since a case about a missing actor had taken her there. It had been a whole big thing as she had to find him before he was due on stage the following night.

Turned out he’d be passed out in the basement of a seedy club having taken a lot of drugs the night before. That had been interesting to deal with.

They turned down a slightly dodgy looking alley and walked right to the end where a door with a glowing “No Entry” sign was waiting. Jo looked around then pulled out her wand. She tapped the door three times and it swung open for them.

Jo stepped in first, Yaz close on her heel. The door closed on its own behind them with a soft thud and at the same time the lights turned on to reveal they were in a lift.

Like all lifts, on one wall there was a panel with several buttons on it. Jo went over to it and pressed the button marked with a four. There was a gentle rumble before the lift started to descend.

“Okay, we’re going into a super high-security area,” Jo said, “people might be a little weird with you as they’ll know you’re a human with The Sight.”

“Right,” Yaz nodded, “why?”

“Because humans aren’t normally allowed in the vaults for safety reasons,” Jo replied darkly, “the spells down here are very potent, which reminds me,” she pulled out her wand and took Yaz’s hand, “need to put a temporary protection spell on you.”

“Okay,” Yaz wasn’t going to say no after what Jo had just said. She was actually feeling a little anxious now.

Jo pressed the tip of the wand to the back on Yaz’s hand and she felt the same stinging sensation she had for the other sigils that had been placed on her. She looked at the mark. It was a shield. It seemed sigils were pretty literal which made sense.

The lift stopped and the two of them stepped out into a what looked like a very fancy bank. The carpet was deep red and the walls had brass details. It seemed decor in the magic world was all very grand. Yaz was rather enjoying it.

A skeleton walked up to them.  _ Wait, what? _ Yaz thought. She’d acknowledged it so casually, but did a mental double take. It as an actual, walking skeleton. They were dressed in a smart, pinstripe suit and were carrying a clipboard.

“Good evening, Dr Smith,” they said. Their voice was soft and feminine, for some reason Yaz had expected it to be rougher.

“Hello Sandra,” Jo replied with a smile, “we’re here to read Merlin’s will.”

“Yes,” Sandra replied with a curt nod, “your name is on the list.” She tapped the clipboard with one of her boney fingers.

“We’re in a bit of a hurry, so if you could take us right there that’d be ace,” Jo said. She was doing her Talking To Adults voice which Yaz had only heard a few times.

Sandra nodded again, “This way,” she turned sharply and lead the way to another lift.

“They have to have skeletons working here due to all the spells. Exposure to them for longer than 24 hours can kill you,” Jo whispered into Yaz’s ear.

Yaz gulped. She wanted to be out as soon as possible if that was the case.

The three of them stepped into the lift and Sandra pressed a button. Once again they were going down.

It was a short journey this time and before she knew it, Yaz was following the other two out of the lift. They had stepped out into a well-lit corridor lined with heavy duty doors. None of which had handles. These must be the vaults.

They didn’t have to walk very far before the arrived at the vault they needed. Sandra placed her hand on the brass door and it dematerialised to reveal a small room. It was empty apart from a podium in the middle on top of which was a small book. 

Jo walked up to the podium and opened the book carefully. She started to flick through the pages of what must be Merlin’s will. It wasn’t until the last page that Jo stopped to read it properly. She nodded then closed the book and left the vault.

“I know where we have to go,” she said.

“Where?” Yaz asked.

“Paris, Sweden…” Jo paused and looked at Yaz with a slightly worried expression.

“And?” Yaz pressed.

“The Highlands…”

“Oh,” Yaz felt her stomach do a backflip. Was she ready for that? She didn’t know. Only one way to find out she supposed, “I’ll do whatever it takes.” She said.

“Are you sure?” Jo asked softly, she put a hand on Yaz’s arm.

“Certain,” Yaz nodded.

“Okay. We won’t go there first, don’t worry,” Jo assured her, “our first stop is Paris.”

Yaz grinned, “That sounds fun, I’ve never been.”

“Excellent!” Jo rubbed her hands together, “Sandra, take us back upstairs, please.”

Sandra nodded silently and lead them back to the lift.

“So,” Yaz said, “who are we going to see in Paris?”

Jo grinned, “My good friends Madame Vastra and Jenny.”


	16. Wining and Dining with Vastra and Jenny

It had been at least 10 years since Yaz had last visited France. She’d gone with some school mates after they left secondary school to celebrate surviving it. Only one of them actually spoke fluent French so he did most of the talking for the group on that trip.

The two of them were sat in the Central London SubterrestRail station, eating chips from a chip shop they’d stopped at on their way. The train they were getting wasn’t for another 20 minutes so they had plenty of time to eat dinner.

“How long will it take for us to get to their house?” Yaz asked as she popped a chip into her mouth. They were gloriously drenched in salt and vinegar.

Jo shrugged, “We’ll have to get a taxi to get from the station to them as they have some pretty strong anti-teleportation magic.”

“Strong as the vaults?”

“Not quite that strong,” Jo replied, “but enough to keep their home private.”

“That’s fair,” Yaz said.

Yaz was enjoying just sitting and taking a moment to do something normal again. Everything that she had experienced over the last few days was starting to feel overwhelming so sitting and eating chips was a nice break from it all. She was loving every moment, but taking a breather was good.

The moment didn't last and before long though they were off again. Jo led the way to the platform where their train would shortly be arriving.

“Do you speak French?” Yaz asked as they walked.

“Yes and no,” Jo replied.

Yaz frowned and looked at Jo, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jo rolled up her sleeve and tapped one of the hexagons that made up her tattoo with her wand. The shape faded a little to reveal a sigil underneath. It was a very simple mouth.

“This allows me to communicate in all languages,” Jo explained, “I will speak whatever language the person I’m speaking to is fluent in.”

“That’s so cool!” Yaz grinned, “Can you give me one of those?”

“Sure, when we get on the train,” Jo nodded. She tapped her arm again and the tattoo was opaque again.

“Do all your hexagons cover sigils?”

“Most of them,” Jo said, “some of them are just there to make the tattoo look cool. I decided I wanted my sigil glamour to look good rather than just my skin so I designed the tattoo. It’s not real, just glamour.”

“That’s really cool,”

Their train pulled up at the station and the two friends stepped on board. Because this was a busier train they’d actually had to book specific seats which was why they’d had to wait a little while for a train.

They walked down the carriage that was listed on their tickets and reached their seats. Jo took the window seat and Yaz slid in next to her.

A mere half an hour later they arrived in Paris. The idea of near-instant travel blew Yaz's mind. She'd spent so much of her life on buses and trains and planes and now the time was cut down considerably.

The facade for the Paris station was a building that used to be a bakery but was now closed down.

Yaz adjusted the time on her watch as they walked down the street, taking in the atmosphere. It was as gorgeous as she remembered. She absolutely loved travelling so having a reason to do it for work was great.

“Right, I told Vastra that we’d be arriving just after 11:00 and it’s,” Jo looked at her watch, “9:50. We’ll probably have better luck getting a taxi on the main road.”

Thanks to Yaz’s new sigil she could understand snippets of conversation as they walked past the occasional group of friends. It was weird to know she was in a different country yet could understand every word. In the past when she’d been abroad she’d felt a little anxious about how little she understood.

After a couple of minutes, Yaz felt Jo slip her hand into her own, “Don’t want to get split up,” was the excuse Jo gave. Yaz was hardly going to complain.

Luckily once they were on the main road it didn’t take long for them to find a taxi. The driver smiled a very fake looking smile as they climbed into the back. Jo told him where to go and they were off. As they went Yaz starred out the window watching the world go by. It was nice to travel overground for once after they’d been going from place to place either by teleporting or underground.

“Why don’t we just teleport to Paris?” Yaz had asked while they were waiting for their chips.

“I haven’t done many hops with you yet,” Jo explained, “a long one like that wouldn’t be very good for you right now.”

Yaz didn’t really want to know what that meant so hadn’t asked any more questions after that.

The music playing in the taxi was coming out French which seemed odd to Yaz given the sigil. She turned to Jo who was bobbing her head along to the music.

“Why can’t I understand the music?” Yaz asked.

“The spell doesn’t extend to music because it tends to sound better in its native language,” Jo said, still bobbing her head, “this song is by a Belgian artist called Stromae.”

“That makes sense,”

“Yeah. Have you ever heard the German version of 99 Red Balloons? So much better,” Jo grinned.

At long last they arrived at a gorgeous and expensive looking house. Jo paid the grumpy taxi driver and they both stepped out. They'd hardly finished getting out of the taxi when it sped off. Jo turned to glare at the car then did the wanker hand motion at it. Yaz laughed at her friend and Jo shook her head then put her arm around Yaz's shoulders to lead the way to the house.

“So are they rich?” Yaz asked as they walked up to the front door.

“Yeah. Vastra is kinda a big deal in the magic world,”

Yaz was suddenly very nervous to meet this woman. Was she meeting a celebrity of the magic world? Should she behave any differently around her? Her gut said to treat her like a normal person, but what if that was disrespectful?

Her anxious mind was obviously buzzing loudly as Jo gave her shoulder a squeeze then took her hand gently, “They’re both nice, don’t worry.”

They reached the front door and Jo knocked. They waited a few moments then there door swung open to reveal a pretty, dark-haired woman. She smiled warmly at them, “Hello! Nice to see you again Jo,” she turned to Yaz, “and you must be Yasmin, lovely to meet you.”

“Hey Jenny, thank you for letting us come over,” Jo smiled.

“Not at all! It’s always lovely to see you,” Jenny replied, “come on in, Vastra is in the kitchen.”

The pair followed Jenny into the house. It was nicely decorated and Yaz could tell that everything inside was worth more than any one item Yaz owned. She didn’t doubt that one room was worth more than her whole flat.

“I hope your journey was okay,” Jenny said.

“Yeah, it was good. Despite being a bit of a dick, the taxi driver had great taste in music!” Jo grinned.

They stepped into the kitchen and Yaz stopped in her tracks at the sight of the woman inside. Madame Vastra was gorgeous and Yaz wasn’t sure how someone who looked nothing like a human could be so stunning, but she was.

“Bonjour,” Vastra said in a voice smooth as silk, “so lovely to see you again, Jo.” She walked over to the two of them and greeted Jo with a kiss on either cheek.

Vastra then turned her attention to Yaz who’d only just remembered how to function like a human again, “Aaah, Yasmin,” she kissed both of Yaz’s cheeks, too, “Jo forgot to mention her new companion was so pretty.” 

Yaz felt her stomach do a backflip.

“Excuse me,” Jenny said, “I’m right here.”

Vastra walked back to Jenny and kissed her softly, “You are,”

“Nice to see you, too, Vastra,” Jo said, apparently completely immune to Vastra’s charm, “thank you for agreeing to see us.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Vastra replied, “anything for the good of the people.”

Jenny then jumped in, “Also we’re always happy to see you,”

“Yes,” Vastra nodded, “that as well.” She turned to the kitchen island where there were four wine glasses and a large cheese platter, “I made us a little spread to enjoy while you elaborate on this situation you mentioned on the phone.”

“It looks delicious,” Jo grinned. Jenny went over to a wine bottle and poured them each a glass of the chardonnay. She then picked up the platter and led the way to the living room where they all sat down to talk.

Once they were all seated, Jo started the now well-rehearsed story of what had brought them to Vastra and Jenny’s home. The further into the story Jo got, the less rehearsed it sounded as new details were added every time.

Yaz just listened while occasionally helping herself to the cheese. It tasted delicious and expensive. As did the wine. Vastra clearly had good taste in food as well as decor.

“So, as I said on the phone, we need your piece of the amulet in order to locate the thieves,” Jo finished.

“Of course. It’s in my vault,” Vasta replied, “if you’re happy to wait until the morning then we can go into the city where it’s located.”

Jo turned to Yaz, “Is that okay with you?” She asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Yaz nodded.

“Excellent. I already had Jenny make a bed for you, you must be exhausted from your day so I suggest you turn in for the night,” Vastra stood up so the other three did the same.

Jenny escorted Yaz and Jo upstairs. She pushed open a door to reveal a gorgeous bedroom with a king size bed, “Here you go. Goodnight both of you.” And with that Jenny left.

“Uh,” Yaz watched her go then turned to Jo, “are we sharing then?”

“I guess so,” Jo shrugged and walked into the bedroom. 

Too tired to debate this, Yaz followed her in and shut the door. She looked around the room. It reminded her of rooms she saw in period films. The bedding had an ornate floral pattern and wallpaper was a subtle creamy pink colour. Then she noticed the best bit of the room.

“There’s a balcony!” Yaz ran over to the glass doors that she’d thought were windows at first glance and tried them. They were unlocked. She pulled them open and a cool breeze hit her face.

The view was stunning. She could actually see the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“I’d hoped we’d get this room,” Jo said, she was suddenly next to Yaz, “it’s my favourite in the house.”

Yaz turned to face Jo who had a soft expression, “It’s very nice,” she agreed.

Jo slipped her arms around Yaz’s waist, “I know I’ve already thanked you for coming, but I wanted to say it again. Thank you.”

Yas could feel her heart beating a million miles an hour. She put her arms around Jo’s shoulders, “I’m having a good time. It’s been so long since I last came to France, it’s cool to be back.”

“Yeah, maybe we should come back when the case is over?” Jo suggested, “We could stay in a cute little Bed and Breakfast in the centre of the city.”

“I’d like that! It’d be fun to explore and not have to worry about trying to translate everything.”

Jo laughed, “Magic makes life so much easier.”

“It really does,” Yaz saw Jo’s eyes flit to her lips for a brief moment before returning to her gaze.

“I know we’ve not known each other very long,” Jo muttered, “but I do really quite like you.”

It felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest, “I quite like you, too,” Yaz whispered. Jo leaned in closer. Yaz was half expecting either Jenny or Vastra to burst in but they didn’t. She leaned into Jo and kissed her.

After so much build-up Yaz had worried the kiss wouldn’t live up to expectations, but it really did. She pulled Jo closer and ran her hands through her hair.

Finally, they parted, both breathing heavily.

“That was a long time coming,” Jo chuckled breathily.

“Yeah,” Yaz leaned her forehead against Jo’s, “worth the wait.”

They kissed again and finally Yaz could feel the horrible cold that had been filling her aching muscles fade away. At this moment she was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.


	17. Kisses in Paris

Yaz woke up in a different bed once again. This was clearly going to be a Thing while on this case. The difference was that this time she was wrapped in the arms of Jo.

They’d agreed they were both too tired to do anything last night so had just gone to bed (after a lot of kissing, that is).

Jo was still fast asleep and Yaz didn’t want to wake her so she just stared up at the ceiling. Jo had opted to sleep in her underwear which had both relieved and disappointed Yaz.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Jo had teased when Yaz checked her out with a lustful gaze. This was the most she’d seen of Jo in person and she was taking in every inch. She was wearing red boxer briefs and a black sports bra. Yaz walked over to Jo and wrapped her arms around her slim waist.

“Not sure why you wear clothes,” Yaz said with a slight smirk, “you look grand without them.”

Jo shared Yaz’s smirk, “I bet walking around in my pants would go really well.”

Yaz shrugged, “I’d enjoy it.”

Jo kissed her again, softly at first, then more hungrily. Yaz wondered if she’d ever get bored of it. Probably never.

The sun shone through the crack in the curtains, casting a beam to golden light on the room. If Yaz could freeze time, she’d freeze this moment so she could live in it forever. She could hear birds chirping outside, but other than that it was quiet. She was so used to the sound of a city that even with the sounds of birds, it seemed silent and peaceful.

Besides her, Jo started to stir. She rolled to the side onto her back and stretched out her arms, her eyes screwed up tightly then blinked open. Then she looked at Yaz and a smile formed on her still sleepy face.

“Morning,” Jo said, her voice croaky from sleep.

“Morning,” Yaz replied warmly.

“Did you sleep okay?” Jo asked. She rolled back onto her side to look at Yaz.

Yaz mirrored Jo’s action, “Yeah. You don’t snore.”

“I don’t? River always complained that I do,”

“Huh, maybe I just got lucky,” Yaz shrugged.

Jo sighed deeply, “Much as I want to stay here in bed with you all day, we have stuff to do.”

Yaz nodded, “Yeah,” she sat up and pulled down her t-shirt that had ridden up in her sleep. Jo sat up as well and Yaz couldn’t help but check her out again.

“Fuck me, how are you so gorgeous when you wake up?” Yaz said hoarsely.

Jo grinned, “Magic.”

“Wait, really?”

“Nah, good genes I think,” she shrugged then leaned into Yaz, lips nearly touching, “but what was that you said about fucking you?”

Yaz felt her heart hammer in her chest as she pressed her lips to Jo’s. Jo kissed her deeply and manoeuvred with ease to mount Yaz. She nipped at Yaz’s lips then trailed kisses and bites down her jaw to her neck.

Yaz felt Jo’s hands on her t-shirt, pulling it upwards. She stopped kissing her neck to pull Yaz’s t-shirt off over her head. Jo trailed her kissed further down to Yaz’s breasts. She nipped at the newly exposed skin then Yaz felt her suck lightly.

Jo’s hands were now behind Yaz’s back, unfastening the bra. She cast it away then pulled away from Yaz for a moment to take in the sight. There was already a light mark on her left breast where Jo had just been.

“Not sure why  _ you _ wear clothes,” Jo grinned.

“When it makes your face do that, I don’t know why I do either,” Yaz replied. She helped Jo pull off her sports bra and now for the first time, she could see the entirety of Jo’s tattoo. She had one of the hollow hexagons around her nipple. Yaz sat up under Jo to kiss and suck at her tattooed breast.

She ran her hands through Jo’s messy blonde hair, gripping onto the locks tightly. Jo was digging her nails into her back, the light stabs of pain from her nails sent tingles through Yaz.

Jo took hold of Yaz’s chin and pulled her face up to her own. She kissed her deeply and as she did she pushed Yaz back down to the bed. She pressed kisses down her body. From her neck to her chest, she stopped to leave another hickey just under her breast, then down to her navel. Jo took hold of Yaz’s pyjama trousers and pulled them off. She made quick work of her underwear too and was soon back to her trail of kisses.

At that moment, Yaz wanted nothing more than to feel Jo between her legs, but Jo was teasing her. She was peppering kisses over her stomach, down her thighs.

“Jo, please,” she breathed.

Jo looked up at Yaz and smiled wickedly, “Want me to stop teasing?”

Yaz nodded and then Jo was gone again. Moments later Yaz gasped as she felt Jo’s tongue inside her. She moaned softly and gripped onto the bedsheet. Having hundreds of years of practice meant Jo was an expert and it showed.

Before long Yaz’s moans grew louder as she came. She couldn’t focus on anything but the intense rush of pleasure.

Jo moved back up the bed and flopped down next to Yaz, a proud look on her face.

“Was that what you had in mind?” She asked, wiping her mouth.

“Yeah,” was all Yaz could manage.

Once her breathing had returned to normal, Yaz wasted no more time and climbed on top of Jo to return the favour.

* * *

Yaz was just pulling on her boots when Jo walked out of the bathroom after her shower. She had a towel around her waist leaving her naked chest on display. Yaz bit her lip, suppressing the urge to pin Jo against the bed again.

Jo wandered over to her bag and pulled out clothes to wear. She unwrapped the towel from her waist and threw it on the bed. Yaz watched as Jo got dressed. She had picked out green plaid trousers and one of those tank tops with giant holes cut out of sides. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“You look good,” Yaz said.

Jo turned to Yaz then looked down at her outfit, she seemed pretty pleased with it, “Thanks,” she then grabbed her brown combat boots and pulled them on, “shall we go downstairs? I’m sure there’ll be breakfast waiting for us.”

“Sounds good,” Yaz nodded. She stood up and walked over to Jo. She leaned down a bit and carefully moved the fabric of the tank top and kissed her exposed breast. Jo ran a hand through Yaz’s hair and moaned softly when Yaz started to suck at her.

When Yaz pulled back there was a mark that was very visible. Yaz was pleased with herself.

The two of them walked downstairs to the kitchen where Vastra and Jenny were sat eating a traditional English breakfast. There were plates of bacon, sausages, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, hash browns, a saucepan of baked beans, a rack of toast, various types of egg. It was quite the spread.

“Good morning you two,” Vastra said with a smile, “did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Jo said, “that bed is divine.”

Vastra nodded, “I should hope so, I paid a lot for it.”

Jenny was eyeing her guests up, Yaz was certain she could see right into Jo’s tank top from her angle. That included the hickey she’d just left on Jo.

“Help yourself to breakfast while it’s hot,” Vastra said, gesturing to the food laid out on the table.

The pair didn’t need telling twice and both hurriedly dug in.

“When you’re finished we’ll go into the city to my vault,” Vastra said, “and we can get that piece of the amulet for you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jo nodded, shovelling a forkful of scrambled egg into her mouth. Yaz needed Jo being her undignified self to bring her back down to earth and seem a little less ethereal again. That said, Yaz couldn’t help but take a peek inside Jo’s shirt any chance she got.

Once they’d finished breakfast everyone got their coats and they headed outside to the car. It was a gorgeous black Bentley. Jenny drove, Vastra was sat in the passenger seat and Jo and Yaz were in the back.

The drive back into the centre of the city was nice. Now it was light Yaz was able to see the sights better and spent the whole journey just watching the world go by once more. Her mind was still buzzing with the morning’s events so her mind would wander back to the bedroom every so often and she’d have to pull it back to the present.

They parked and all stepped out the car. Jenny went to pay for parking and Vastra checked her face in the car window. Yaz assumed she was looking at her glamour, but couldn’t be sure because it was turned off to casters and people with The Sight so she couldn’t see it.

Jenny returned and then Vastra lead the way to the vaults. As they walked, Jo slipped her hand into Yaz’s. The small gesture made Yaz’s heart sing. She loved the feel of Jo’s hand in her own.

It was a chilly but sunny day so the walk was enjoyable. Yaz caught snatches of conversation and enjoyed actually understanding them when she wouldn’t have in the past.

The walk from the car to the vaults wasn’t a long one. Much like in London the entrance was hidden away down an alley and Vastra used her wand to open the door.

The four of them stepped into the lift, which plummeted downwards as soon as the door was closed. When the doors slid open they revealed a beautiful room. Magic clearly meant impressive decor.

“Right, you two wait here, we’ll be back shortly,” Vastra instructed then she and Jenny walked off.

Jo looked around and swung her arms back and forth, “I wonder how long they’ll be,” she mused aloud.

“It took us about ten minutes to get the will,” Yaz replied, also looking around. As well as the skeletons who worked there, there was a handful of other people in the vaults, all going about their business. They’d steal the occasional glance at Yaz and Jo but mostly ignored them. 

“Hmm,” Jo hummed. Just then a tall skeleton walked past. Jo got their attention, “Sorry, hi,”

“Hello,” she said, despite the translator, she still spoke with a French accent. Yaz had been wondering about that. Vastra and Jenny were actually English she’d discovered so they spoke English to each other and Yaz hadn’t really got to experience the translator in action.

“Where might we find your loo?” Jo asked.

The skeleton pointed to a door, “Go through there and up the stairs, they’re on the left.”

“Ta,” Jo said then took Yaz’s hand, “c’mon.” Yaz did what she was told and walked with Jo to the door.

They followed the skeleton’s directions and easily found where they were going. Yaz went to let go of Jo’s hand so she could wait outside, but Jo winked at her and motioned to the door with her head. Suddenly Yaz realised what Jo was thinking. She didn’t need to be told twice and followed Jo inside.

Once inside Jo pinned Yaz to the wall and hurriedly unfastened her belt, “Five minutes should be plenty,” Jo said into her lips as she slid her hand down into Yaz’s underwear.

Yaz had to stop herself moaning, she didn’t know how soundproof the toilet was. Yaz unbuttoned Jo’s trousers and also started to finger her. They only stopped kissing to catch their breath, their foreheads were pressed together, both women intoxicated by the other.

* * *

“Where were you?” Vastra asked irritably when Jo and Yaz returned. Apparently, they’d taken a little longer in the toilet than they’d meant to.

“I needed the toilet,” Yaz replied simply.

Vastra raised her eyebrows but said no more, “Well, we have the amulet piece for you,” she handed it to Jo, “I want it back when you’re done. I treasure this.”

“Of course,” Jo nodded, “soon as we have the wand it’s all yours again.”

“Good, good,” Vastra nodded. They all went back into the lift and returned to the busy streets of Paris once more.

“Well,” Vastra said, “Jenny and I have some errands to run. Do you two want to come back to our house or will you be moving on now you have what you came for?”

“We need to get going,” Jo said, “but thank you for being such lovely hosts. The food was excellent.”

“You’re welcome any time,” Jenny smiled. They all said their goodbyes and just as they were about to go their separate ways Jenny added with a wink, “Invite us next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you enjoyed reading it.


	18. Demons of France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in the same week? Madness!

Yaz sat opposite Jo in a quaint cafe in the centre of Paris. It was exactly as she imaged a French cafe would look. Rustic brickwork, dark wood, soft red accents and incredibly attractive staff. France was living up to both her memories and expectations as a lot of people they’d come across were gorgeous.

At the suggestion of the pretty barista, Yaz and Jo were both enjoying lattes and pan au chocolats. The latter was apparently freshly made that morning and then heated up before being served. It was delicious, possibly the best pastry Yaz had ever tasted - not that she’d tell Grace that.

The plan was to head back to the Paris SubterrestRail station that afternoon, but Jo had agreed that they needed to a break to enjoy the city they were visiting. Yaz’s head was spinning with magic and she just needed a breather. Jo had been more than happy to oblige.

“My French teacher in primary school used to harp on about French cafes,” Yaz said as she tore a piece of pan au chocolat off and popped it into her mouth, “she told us about how the French would dip their croissants into their coffee and that was a common breakfast.”

“How stereotypical,” Jo laughed.

“I know! Her name was  _ Madame Silvia _ , we had to use her first name because none of us could say her surname,” Yaz chuckled softly at the memory.

They were just finishing their food when a man who looked like he’d stepped out of Vogue sauntered over. He had a dark brown hair that was styled just so, a crisp olive green shirt tucked in neatly to his dark stonewash jeans and a smile that would make anyone swoon.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle,” his voice was soft as butter, “I’m sorry to intrude, but I would not forgive myself if I did not come over and say hello.”

Yaz was beguiled, Jo, on the other hand, was having none of it, “It’s quite alright,” Yaz giggled. Wait. _Giggled_? Yaz was suddenly ashamed of herself, but then looked into the man’s sultry red eyes again and forgot her embarrassment.

“My name is Azil,” he took Yaz’s hand and went to kiss it but Jo slapped his hands away from Yaz before he could.

“I know what you are, Azil,” Jo hissed, “leave her alone.”

“Oooh, the Gallifreyan has a sharp tongue,” Azil purred, “how cute.”

“Jo, what was that?” Yaz demanded, “He’s just flirting.  _ Are you jealous? _ ”

Jo folded her arms and glared at Azil, “No. He is an incubus.”

“Like a demon?” Yaz asked, horrified. She looked back at Azil and it suddenly clicked that red eyes weren’t exactly normal.

“Yes, like a demon,” Jo continued to give Azil evils, “if he gets his saliva on you, you will be under his spell.”

Yaz looked at her hand that Azil had so nearly kissed. That was a narrow escape. Now the fog of Azil’s charm was clearing from her head she realised that despite what she’d been feeling between her legs, she didn’t actually want Azil anywhere near them.

“How come you are immune to my charms?” Azil asked Jo.

Jo stretched her arms above her head, “Because I’m really gay, mate,” she said simply.

Azil was clearly bored with the conversation and let out a loud huff before leaving. As he walked off Yaz saw a black tail sticking out his jeans. It swished from side to side in an agitated manner as he stalked out of the cafe.

“You alright?” Jo asked Yaz, her voice gentler now.

Yaz nodded, “Yeah. Does anything bad happen if you sleep with an incubus?”

“You just become bewitched and obsessed with them and they can call on you whenever they please and you’ll do whatever they ask,” Jo explained, “it’s not healthy. They typically prey on humans without The Sight because they can’t see their tail or red eyes.”

“Do you think he knew that I’m human?” Yaz asked.

“Oh yeah, but he definitely didn’t realise you had The Sight, otherwise he’d probably have left you alone,” Jo said, “I once had a run-in with a particularly bold female incubus, that’s how I know about this.”

“Female incubus? I don’t know much, but aren’t they succubi?” Yaz asked.

Jo smirked, “That’s what humans think, yeah, but no. To put it simply; Incubi are tops, succubi are bottoms and concubi are switches.”

“Concubi? Never heard of them.”

“Most humans haven’t,” Jo picked up her latte and finished it in one gulp, “the incubus who caught me was absolutely gorgeous, it wasn’t until a demon hunter caught her that I was released from her spell.”

“How long were you enchanted?” Yaz asked, also finishing her coffee.

“Six months. I didn’t have sex again for months after that my body was just too tired,” Jo laughed, “this was like two-hundred years ago.”

Even when they were trying to avoid the magical realm, it seemed they couldn’t escape it. Yaz was starting to realise this was just something she had to accept unless she had her sigil removed and her memory wiped. But she didn’t want that. She was having far too much fun with Jo to do that.

Her friend might not be a concubus (and if she was any of them, Jo was that one), but she had Yaz wrapped around her finger. She was one of the most enticing people Yaz had met. Travelling with Jo had meant she was experiencing things she’d never even imagined let alone thought she would see.

For instance, they’d agreed they’d go to the magical creature zoo in America once they’d finished the case. It was the largest one in the world and had every animal you could imagine. Jo had shown her pictures and it looked amazing. She was very excited to go.

Being with Jo made Yaz feel like a teenager again. Maybe it was the fact that anyone would feel young next to Jo, maybe it was the fact that she was giddy with infatuation in a way she hadn’t been since she was 16. 

Yaz kept reminding herself that even though Jo was larger than life and possibly the best person she’d ever met, she was still mortal. Still a person. An extraordinary person, but a person all the same. She had to keep her perception of Jo grounded, she couldn’t allow herself to be obsessed with her.

But… when they kissed Yaz felt invincible. How could she stay grounded when she felt like that? 

Opposite her Jo was drawing pictures on the table with a small puddle of coffee that she’d managed to spill when drinking it. Yaz didn’t need to be the one to ground Jo, she did it herself by doing things like this. Doodling with puddles of coffee was something that Yaz herself did when she was sat in a coffee shop, not thinking about anything in particular.

Jo looked up from her picture and grinned her goofy grin at Yaz, “You ready to go?” She asked.

Yaz nodded and the two of them started to stand up and put their coats on. Jo rummaged in her satchel and pulled out two travel cups, “One for the road?” She suggested. Yaz wasn’t going to say no.

They got another latte each and told the baristas how good the coffee and pan au chocolats had been. The baristas grinned at that and thanked them happily.

Outside the cafe the cool November breeze blew around them, making Yaz glad of both her coat and coffee.

“We could take the long way back to the station?” Jo suggested as they walked.

“Okay,” Yaz nodded.

As they walked, Jo slipped her hand into Yaz’s and interlocked their fingers. It was really nice. 

“So,” Jo said taking a sip of her coffee, “you know gargoyles?”

This was out of nowhere, “Uh, yeah, I am aware.”

“Right, so they’re native to France,” Jo said, “and one time I had to stop one from trying to take over the world.”

“What?” Yaz looked at her friend in disbelief, “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Jo said, “he was proper adamant that he and his mates were gonna take over the world. Said he was sick of casters ruling - we don’t - and that a gargoyle rule would be better - it wouldn’t.”

“What was he gonna do?” Yaz asked.

Jo stopped by a crossing so Yaz was pulled to a stop too, “He was gonna kidnap all The Union members and kill them.”

“Jesus!”

“I know!” They crossed the road, “He was off his face on bad beer, he couldn't kidnap a human let alone a group of the most powerful casters alive.” Jo laughed at the memory.

“So when you said you stopped a gargoyle from taking over the world, you actually just meant you had a conversation with a pissed guy in a pub?” Yaz asked wryly.

“Doesn’t sound as impressive when you say it like that,” Jo pouted.

Yaz kissed Jo’s cheek, “Sorry. I’m super impressed and turned on by how badass you are. Better?”

“Much,” Jo nodded.

They walked around for an hour before Jo decided they’d better go to the station. It turned out when Jo said “the long way” she meant “walk around aimlessly until they were ready and then teleport there”.

Because they couldn’t teleport in plain sight, they walked into another cafe and went into the toilet.

“I wonder what people were thinking when they watched us both come in her,” Yaz laughed.

Jo got a wicked look in her eye, “I have a few ideas.”

“Don’t we have to be in Sweden soon?” Yaz asked, but her tone betrayed her. Jo locked the toilet door and pulled Yaz in close to kiss her.

“I’ve kissed a lot of women-”

“Good start to a sentence,” Yaz teased, unfastening Jo’s coat.

Jo slapped her arse, “Oi, cheeky,” Yaz moved the fabric of Jo’s tank top and massaged her breast causing Jo to moan softly into her lips, “I’ve lost my train of thought now.”

“You were bragging about how many women you’ve shagged,” Yaz said.

Jo put her hand up the back of Yaz’s shirt and undid the clasp of her bra, “I think I said kissed, but I have shagged about the same number-”

“Do you think your vast sexual history is a turn on?” Yaz laughed.

Jo pulled away from Yaz to look at her with a raised eyebrow, “Dunno. Is it?”

“Yeah,” Yaz said, pulling her into a kiss again, “sorry, what were you trying to say.” She kissed down Jo’s neck.

“I was gonna say that you’re one of my favourites to kiss,” Jo said through laboured breaths.

Yaz grinned into Jo and moved her kiss lower to her nipple. She sucked and nipped at Jo hungrily, she was addicted to Jo and she wasn’t planning on going sober.

* * *

“Jo?” Yaz said quietly, she didn’t want to be overheard by the other passengers.

“Yeah?” Jo replied, also whispering.

“Are you seeing anyone other than River and Me?”

Jo turned to look at her, her eyes soft, “Not actively.”

“What does that mean?” Yaz asked, rotating her body in the seat so she was looking at Jo better.

“It means that if I had to choose anyone to spend time with, it’d be one of you two,” Jo said giving Yaz a kiss on her forehead.

“Cute answer, what does it really mean?”

Jo rolled her eyes, “Means I have a couple of people who I hook up with every now and then but don’t consider myself to be in a relationship with.”

Yaz felt her heart beat faster, “What does that make me?”

Jo smiled, “Whatever you want,” she stroked Yaz’s cheek softly, “I don’t want to rush you. I’m enjoying whatever this is.”

“I am as well,” Yaz nodded, “I don’t know. I’m happy to continue what we’re currently doing.”

“Having amazing sex in public toilets?” Jo smirked.

“I mean it’s been pretty good so far,” Yaz laughed.

Jo pushed up the armrest that separated the two chairs and pulled Yaz close. Yaz inhaled her partner’s scent. Coffee for the most part, but even though she’d been nowhere near her shop for days there was a hint of Lafit’s smell that still lingered on her.

It didn’t take long for Yaz to drift off to sleep in Jo’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I weighed in on the top/bottom discussion.


	19. Journey to the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied sexual assault. If you want to skip it, it's between the breaks.

Yaz was awoken by Jo gently nudging her awake about 20 minutes later, “We’re here, lovely,” Jo said.

_Here_ was Gothenburg, Sweden. The exit to the SubterrestRail Station was an abandoned shop. It seemed like it may have once been a clothing shop, but was long unused. Yaz had no doubt that it was owned by The Union and that was why it hadn’t been turned into anything. It seemed that The Union did a lot of little things to make the lives of those in the magical community easier.

The shop was on the outskirts of the city and the streets weren’t too busy where they were. It was colder than Paris, though. Much colder, actually. Yaz was grateful now that Jo had insisted they put on warmer clothes before leaving the station.

“Still no scarf, huh?” Yaz commented when Jo had apparently finished wrapping up.

“Not yet,” Jo shrugged, “it’s not like we’ll be here very long.”

Yaz thought Jo was being ridiculous but decided not to fight her on this. She was the only way she was getting home after all. Now she thought about it, what  _ would _ happen if she didn’t have Jo to get her home? There must be systems in place for people with The Sight who lose their caster friend. Yaz decided now wasn't the time to worry. She'd ask Jo at some point.

The first stop was the B&B. It was late evening so they thought they’d be better off just getting some rest. They had a long hike the next morning so Jo thought it best to get sleep.

“Magic travel is quite tiring for the human body,” Jo had explained, “you need rest.” Yaz was hardly going to turn down sleep.

As they made their way to the B&B snow started to fall and Yaz reached for Jo’s hand. She hadn’t realised how much of a trigger snow would be for her until that moment. The place she’d stayed in when on her undercover case had been high in the mountains so there was snow everywhere.

“You’re okay,” Jo said gently, “I’m here.”

Just those words helped bring Yaz to the present. She was okay. But the fact that snow alone gave her flashbacks did not bode well for when they went to Scotland. She needed to be brave to get through this.

While they walked, Jo babbled on about how she’d seen ABBA live in Gothenburg back in 1975 with River. Yaz pictured Jo and River dressed like the cast of Mamma Mia! at the end in their shiny, over the top outfits. She had no doubt that they’d had gone all out.

“Love a bit of ABBA,” Jo said, “River and I did an award-worthy performance of Waterloo at our 30th wedding anniversary party.”

Before long they arrived at the B&B. They walked inside and were greeted by a pretty, blonde woman.

Jo walked over to the front desk and shot one her goofy grins at the receptionist, “Hey,”

“Hej, how can I help?” She replied.

“We have a reservation,” Jo said, “should be under Smith.”

“Aah, ja,” the woman tapped some keys on her computer and after a little back and forth gave Jo a key. Jo grabbed Yaz’s hand a took her upstairs, following the directions of the receptionist.

“Jo,”

“Yeah?” Jo was fumbling with the lock to their room.

“Why do some words not get translated?” She’d been wondering it all day and upon hearing the receptionist saying hej and ja she remembered to actually ask.

“Bingo!” Jo pushed open the door and held it for Yaz as she spoke, “doesn’t always translate words you already know. That and it’s a weird and quite difficult spell so it could also be down to me not doing it very well. I could try removing your sigil and redoing it if you like?”

“No, it’s all good,” Yaz replied, “it’s interesting to hear some of the native languages.”

“Cool, well let me know if you change your mind,” Jo finished locking the door then pointed her wand at it. She muttered something and purple mist enveloped the door. She then performed the same spell on the window before flopping down on to the bed.

“What did you do?” Yaz asked.

“Protection spell,” Jo said, “no one but us two can get in or out of this room until we hand over the key.”

Yaz frowned with concern, “Why?”

“Because,” Jo sat up, “I like to be safe. Both River’s and Vastra and Jenny’s houses had protection spells already so I didn’t need to do anything but here is different so I’m taking to necessary precautions.”

Yaz just nodded. It made sense but it also made her realise they weren’t completely safe anywhere. Jo was probably being extra vigilant after the break-in. It made sense but it also made Yaz anxious.

What she needed was a nice bath. She walked over to the en suite and pushed open the door. Much to Yaz’s delight there was a bathtub. Yaz turned around to Jo who was trying to get the TV to work.

“Jo?” Yaz said, drawing out the O in her name to hint that she wanted something.

Jo raised her eyebrows and turned to Yaz, “What do you want?”

“Can you magic up a bath bomb?”

“A bath bomb?”

“Yeah,” Yaz nodded and gestured to the en suite, “I want to have a bath. They relax me.”

“I can do better than that,” Jo scooted off the bed and walked to the en suite. She pulled out her wand again and pointed it at the bathtub. She muttered something a moments later the bath started to fill up. The water was turquoise and all of a sudden the air smelled floral.

“There ya go,” Jo gestured to the bath, “enjoy.” She turned around and sat back down on the bed to watch TV. Yaz looked at the magic bath that Jo had just made her. Turns out having a caster friend had more uses than she’d first imagined.

Yaz stripped off and stepped in. The temperature was perfect. She lay in the bath for ages with her eyes closed and taking deep breaths. It was absolute bliss. In the other room, Jo had apparently given up on finding a Swedish TV show to watch because Yaz recognised the sound of Graham Norton’s voice.

After a while, Yaz wasn’t sure how long exactly, Jo poked her head around the door. While Yaz was in the bath Jo had changed into her dressing gown and had tied her hair back.

“When do you think you’ll be joining me?” Jo asked.

Yaz closed her eyes again, “This bath is too good, I don’t wanna leave.”

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” Jo chuckled, “but it’s cold in the bed without you.”

“Get under the covers,” Yaz said without opening her eyes.

“It’s not the same,” Jo whined.

Yaz opened her eyes to look at Jo, “10 more minutes, okay?”

“Deal,” Jo nodded then went back to the bed. Yaz felt she should have guessed that Jo would be slightly needy.

As she’d promised, 10 minutes later Yaz got out of the bath. She grabbed one of the dark blue towels that hung in the bathroom which she then wrapped around herself. Once she’d drained the bath she walked back out the main room to find Jo watching some game show. She had disregarded her dressing gown and got under the covers as Yaz had suggested.

Jo smiled when she saw her, “Hey.” She pulled back the covers, hinting that Yaz should join her. She didn’t need to be told twice. Yaz threw off her towel and climbed into bed next to Jo. The snuggled up close together, Jo put her arm around Yaz and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

They watched TV for a bit, but Yaz could feel herself falling asleep in Jo’s arms. Jo was drawing circles on her arm with her finger. It was so soothing and comforting. Yaz had been single for so long that she’d forgotten how much she loved this aspect. Just being together doing nothing. It was nice.

* * *

 

It was cold. The air felt almost spikey from the freezing temperatures. Yaz wasn’t wearing enough for how cold it was, just a simple t-shirt, loose jeans and thin hoodie. She was sleeping in a small, grey room with three other women, none of them fluent in English. Just like she was pretending to be. She’d been woken up by the sound of men getting back and changing shifts watching the women. It hadn’t taken Yaz long to work out their schedule.

The replacement was one of Yaz’s least favourites. He always groped her when he walked past. Sometimes he’d leave his post outside the room to watch them and masturbate. As far as Yaz could tell from snippets of conversation, his name was Bartos. He was big and had a scar on his lip. Yaz hoped it was from being punched in the face.

She willed herself to go back to sleep but now she was awake she wasn't going to be sleeping for a while. Yaz pulled her threadbare blanket closer, being careful not to pull it off the girl she was sleeping next to.

It had been so long since she’d last slept with a pillow that Yaz had forgotten what it was like. One girl was sleeping with her head on Yaz’s leg because it was more comfortable than the well-worn carpet flooring.

“Hello my lovely whores,” Bartos said in his thick accent. Yaz wasn’t sure where it was from, but it was something in Europe, “look at you all asleep.”

Yaz squeezed her eyes shut. She could hardly breathe. Her head was pounding and she felt sick with anxiety. Sometimes Bartos would feel them up in their sleep, she only knew because he’d woken her up one night doing it.

She willed him to go. If he’d just go back to the door and sit there like they were meant to when they were guarding them. If he'd just go away.

But Bartos didn’t go. Instead, he reached down and shook Yaz, he was trying to wake her up. In her first week Yaz had woken up easily and reacted and now Bartos knew this he took advantage of it.

“I know you pretend,” he said, “get up.” Yaz did was she was told, trying not to wake up the other girl in the process. Bartos lead her out of the room. He gripped her waist with his calloused hands. Yaz didn't move, she just stared at Bartos, not breaking his gaze.

"Such a pretty child," Bartos muttered, his breath smelled of cigarettes and beer. Yaz felt him push his hands up her t-shirt. His cold fingers felt rough against her skin. He ran them up her back then around to her chest. He got a wicked look in his eye and removed his hands. Bartos then  sat down in the chair that was placed outside the door to the room that Yaz slept in.

Bartos grabbed Yaz’s hands and pulled her into a kneeling position, then to her horror unzipped his trousers. Once he'd finished that, yanked up her t-shirt, his eyes were dark. Then with his free hand he took hold of her head and-

* * *

Yaz woke up screaming. She was drenched in sweat. She didn’t know where she was. It was so cold. She was naked. Was she back in Scotland? In that horrible house? It was dark. So dark.

A hand appeared on her shoulder causing Yaz to yell, slap the hand away, and jump out of bed.

“Yaz!” Jo’s voiced yelled to her, “It’s me, Jo, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

The bedside lamp turned on and sure enough, there was Jo, sat in bed looking worried. She was in Sweden. Not Scotland. She was in a B&B. Not that horrible place. The hand belong to Jo. Not Bartos.

Yaz took a few deep breaths, no feeling able to get back into bed. She wanted to calm down. She’d repressed that memory so far down she’d forgotten it. Bartos had been caught before he’d finished and wasn’t allowed to guard them after that. Yaz could taste him in her mouth still.

“Was it a nightmare?” Jo asked softly. She wasn’t moving, she was just sitting in bed waiting for Yaz to be ready to talk.

The only response Yaz could manage was a small nod. She really thought she was doing better.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yaz shook her head.

“Do you want to come back to bed?”

Yaz shook her head.

“Do you want a hug?”

Yaz nodded. Jo got out of bed and opened her arms to Yaz. Yaz went to her and pulled her close. It was only now that she realised she was crying. Probably had been since she’d woken up.

Jo gently stroked Yaz’s hair to comfort her, “You’re safe. You’re okay. I’m here.” Was all Jo said over and over again. Her voice was so calming.

Eventually, Yaz let Jo lead her back to bed. She climbed under the covers and held Jo close again. She buried her head in Jo’s shoulder. She was safe. She was okay. Jo was there. She repeated the mantra in her head until she finally fell asleep again.


	20. You're Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back* baby!
> 
> *Until the next inevitable hiatus I take.

For a while, Yaz had drifted in and out of consciousness, her nightmare haunting her dreams whenever she did manage to sleep. Whenever Yaz woke up Jo was there, awake, soothing her back to sleep again. Making sure she knew she was safe and okay.

Eventually, Jo offered to put a spell on her to make her sleep, Yaz nodded gratefully. After that, she’d slipped into a dreamless sleep quite easily.

She didn’t wake up until gone 10:30. Jo was sat up and Yaz had her arms wrapped around her waist with her head resting on her hip. Yaz looked up to see Jo was reading a book. She had her free hand around Yaz’s shoulders and was gently stroking her exposed skin.

Jo felt Yaz’s movement and looked down from her book at Yaz. She gave Yaz a slight smile, “Hey,” she said softly, “you doing better?”

Yaz shuffled to sit up next to Jo, “Not great, but better than last night.”

Jo took Yaz’s hand in her own, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” Yaz said. She felt like she should. It’d probably be helpful to get it out. But… She shuddered just remembering the dream. Yaz didn’t actually remember what really happened that night, she’d completely blocked it out in order to get through the rest of the job. 

“One of the men,” she started, her voice was shaky but she knew she needed to talk this through. She’d go mad if it was all kept inside her head, “he was always a little more handsy than the others. He’d slap our arses and grab are boobs. Some nights when he was watching the room I slept in he’d come and feel me up in my sleep. One night he got a bit brave and when he realised I was awake he,” Yaz’s words caught in her throat.

“Sssh, ssh, you’re okay,” Jo said, pulling Yaz close to her in a hug, “you’re okay,” she stroked her hair as Yaz cried into her, “I’m with you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

Yaz continued, her words slightly muffled by Jo’s chest but she had started and she was going to finish, “When he realised I was awake he dragged me out of the room and forced me to… to give him,” she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“It’s okay, I won’t make you say it,” Jo said, still stroking Yaz’s hair, “he’s in prison now, he can’t hurt you.” Yaz nodded. She was safe.

Yaz didn’t know how long they were sat there. She was clutching onto Jo like her life depended on it. She really hadn’t realised just how bad she was after her ordeal. She was trying not to think about returning to Scotland in a few days. That was going to be rough and she knew it. While they sat there curled up together she wondered if Jo was able to cast a spell that made her trauma go away.

The silence was broken by Yaz’s stomach rumbling. She hadn’t realised she was hungry until then, but now it was clear that she very much was.

Jo smirked at her, “You a bit hungry?”

“Yeah, I think I might be,” Yaz nodded.

“Wanna put some clothes on and get food? This is a bed and  _ breakfast _ after all. I think they stop serving breakfast at 11:30, so we’ll just catch it,” Jo said as she stood up. Yaz got out of bed too and stretched. Her muscles were aching from sleeping in such an awkward, hunched up position.

Once they were both dressed Jo led the way downstairs to the breakfast area. It was mostly empty at this point which Yaz was glad about, she needed quiet right now. They sat down at a table for two and before long a young man appeared to take their order. They started off with coffees so they had some more time to read the menus.

“Oh, I know these!” Yaz said excitedly when she spotted a word on the menu, “smörgås!They had to make them on Bake Off.” She pointed to it on Jo’s menu.

“Oooh, that sound yum!” Jo said looking at the spot Yaz’d pointed to, “I think I’ll get one of those. You?”

“Yeah, I’ll have one of those, too,” Yaz nodded. Food was a good distraction from the storm in her head.

The waiter came back with their coffees and took their breakfast order. Because it was so late in the morning they didn’t have many options left so they both got the same thing.

Yaz sipped her coffee, “Oof, that’s strong,” she put it down and added more milk from the little jug they’d been given.

“Yeah, the Swedes like their coffee strong,” Jo said, also adding a lot of milk to her own, “it’s good though.”

“Oh yeah,” Yaz agreed. Having something mundane and familiar like coffee to focus on was helping her. She looked across the table at her friend. Having Jo there had made getting through the night so much easier. She didn’t dare think how she’d have managed without her bringing her back to reality.

Yaz shook her head slightly to clear her head. Jo gave her a concerned look but didn’t ask. She knew the answer anyway.

It didn’t take long for their food to arrive and it looked delicious. It was layered with Swedish cheese, radishes, salmon and marinated cucumber. Yaz dug in hungrily, it tasted good as it looked.

“I’m going to tell Grace she needs to start selling smörgås in GG’s,” Yaz said through a mouthful.

Jo hummed in agreement, “Definitely. I bet open-faced sandwiches would be a big hit in Sheffield.”

“That’s what they’re called in English!” Yaz said, “The sigil wasn’t translating the word for me,” she laughed, “it was bugging me.”

“Sorry, sure you don’t want me to fix it?” Jo offered.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Yaz replied.

It didn’t take them long to finish their breakfast and once they had they went back up to their room to get their coats on. Jo had pointed out it’d be a bit weird for the other patrons to see them pulling giant coats out of their small bags.

“So,” Yaz said, zipping up her coat, “where are we going?”

“Delsjön,” Jo pulled on a beanie, “we’re going to meet a bigfoot.”

Yaz looked at her with wide eyes, “A bigfoot?”

“Yep,” Jo walked to the door and pulled it open, “he’s really nice, don’t worry.”

Yaz walked out the door and Jo locked it behind them. They were planning on staying another night in the B&B so Jo put the key in her bag and the two of them walked downstairs again.

“So bigfoots are real?” Yaz said.

“Yeah,” Jo nodded. They stepped outside and the street was unrecognisable. Overnight it had been coated in a layer of snow. It felt like a fairytale. Yaz took hold of Jo’s hand. Magical as it looked, the sight of snow was setting her on edge.

“Is there more than one?” Yaz asked as they walked down the street.

“There’s a few, yeah,” Jo replied, “almost exclusively live in Scandinavian countries. I think a few live in Germany, but they like the climate here.”

They had to take a bus to get to Delsjön where the forest that Claes the bigfoot lived. The walk from the bus stop to the forest wasn’t too far, but it felt further with the snow. Late November clearly wasn’t the best time to be trekking through Sweden.

Once in the forest the walk got a little easier, the trees had blocked some of the snowfall so the layer was thinner. The Swedish countryside was gorgeous and Yaz was taking it all in.

“It’s funny how in almost the same amount of time we travelled from Paris to here we went from the B&B to this forest,” Yaz said as they walked.

“Yeah, human transportation is poor,” Jo replied, “the SubterrestRail puts it to shame.”

“Shame you’ve never been to Claes’ before, could have teleported,” Yaz said.

“Claes and I only met once at one of Merlin’s get-togethers. Bigfoots are solitary creatures. They have a mating season of sorts where the females find a worthy male, have an evening together then don’t spend time together after that,” Jo explained.

Yaz was fascinated by the concept of a creature that could communicate in a human language behaving like the animals she was in documentaries, “So they don’t mate for life then?” Yaz asked.

“No,” Jo shook her head, “like I said, solitary creatures. I imagine Claes has more kids than he has fingers and toes and probably doesn’t know any of them.”

“Huh,” Yaz didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t imagine it.

They didn’t come across many others as they trudged through the forest. Obviously, most people had opted to stay inside what with the overnight snowfall. Yaz was fantasising about sitting in GG’s with a hazelnut mocha. It felt like an age since she’d last done that, but it was only a week.

An hour into their hike they stopped seeing anyone. Yaz hoped Jo knew the way back because she was losing track of where they’d been. Everything looked the same. She’d never been very good with forests. She’d got lost in them too many times to dare to go into one alone. Having Jo with her made Yaz feel a little more at ease. There was always the option to teleport if needed.

“I think it’s just up here,” Jo said pointing up a small hill, “there should be a hidden entrance to his cave if I’m to believe my instructions.”

“And where are those instructions from?” Yaz asked, her legs were getting tired from the uneven ground.

“River,” Jo said, pushing a low hanging branch up and out of the way. Yaz was inclined to trust River, she seemed sensible. God knows how Jo had convinced her to marry her. Actually, that wasn’t fair, Yaz knew exactly what Jo had done because she’d done it to her, too.

They clambered up the hill and were met with nothing out of the ordinary. Yaz wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see, but she’d expected more than nothing at all.

Jo, on the other hand, looked pleased. Yaz watched her friend walk over to a large rock. She walked around it, inspecting it closely. Apparently, this rock was really interesting. Jo pulled out her wand and tapped it to the rock. Suddenly Yaz knew why Jo found this seemingly normal rock so interesting.

Purple magic spiralled out from the tip of Jo’s wand in a pattern that resembled vines. There was a loud crack as the rock split open into four quarters and levitated apart to reveal a hole. Yaz walked over to look down the hole. There was a ladder.

“Right, I’ll go first,” Jo said, “if it’s dangerous I’ll protect you.”

Yaz frowned, “Are you expecting it to be dangerous?”

“Nah, Claes is lovely,” Jo grinned, “c’mon hot stuff.” And with that Jo lowered herself into the hole. With no other option, Yaz climbed in after her. Once Yaz was fully in the hole the rock returned to its place covering the entrance. The moment the rock was in place, the tunnel lit up with soft golden light. The light came from little glowing rocks that had been mounted in the walls.

The downwards tunnel wasn’t long and within a minute they were at the bottom. They were now in a small room with a high ceiling. It was lit with the same glowing rocks and on one wall there was a red door with a copper knocker.

“Guess we knock,” Jo said with a shrug. Yaz wasn’t about to volunteer so Jo stepped towards the door and knocked twice. They stood there in silence for a minute and Yaz was about to suggest that Jo knock again when the door creaked open.


	21. Green Tea with a Bigfoot

In the doorway stood large, humanoid figure covered in shaggy, reddish-brown fur. He wore a long, mustard yellow woollen cardigan and nothing else. His eyes were large and green and he had a bit of an overbite. Yaz took a step back, Claes was at least seven foot tall and Yaz felt intimidated. Jo, on the other hand, seemed fine. She seemed completely relaxed, although she had stood up straight to make herself seem taller.

“Hej? Vad vill du?” Claes said in a strong Swedish accent. Yaz looked at Jo with a frown. Why weren’t his words being translated?

“Hey, sorry, could you say that again?” Jo asked.

Claes crossed his giant arms, “I said, what do you want?” It came out English that time.

“Right, so, we’ve met before,” Jo begun.

“I know,” Claes said, “Merlin’s birthday, 1864. You were very drunk,” Claes rough face formed what Yaz hoped was a grin, “I like you, come in. Your pet can come, too.”

“Uhm, she’s not my pet,” Jo corrected as they followed Claes inside, “she’s my friend.”

Claes snorted, “Humans make good pets,” he said, “they’re good at cleaning.” Yaz looked around frantically, hoping they weren’t about to meet Claes’ pet human.

“Pretty sure keeping humans as pets was outlawed 300 years ago, Claes,” Jo said folding her arms.

“Yeah,” Claes sighed, “tea?” So apparently that was the end of that discussion. Yaz decided to leave it. She didn’t want to know any more about pet humans. It didn’t seem like something she needed to hear about.

“Tea would be lovely,” Jo said taking off her coat and hanging it up. Considering Claes lived in a hole in the middle of nowhere, his home was nice. It looked like it was right out of an IKEA catalogue, in fact. The walls were painted white and the furniture was light wood. The kitchen and living room were one connected room and there were two other doors that Yaz could only assume led to a toilet and a bedroom. Did bigfoots have toilets? That wasn’t a question she’d ever seen herself asking.

Jo took Yaz’s coat from her and hung it up, too “Nice place you go here Claes,” she said conversationally.

“Thank you,” Claes replied, busying himself in the kitchen, “please take your shoes off, it’s wet and muddy out there.”

The two of them quickly did as they were told. Claes was very big and probably very strong. They had no plans on annoying the houseproud bigfoot. They walked over to the sofa and sat down wordlessly. Yaz shot Jo a look which Jo responded to by squeezing her hand.

“So, what brings you here, Joanna?” Claes asked while he put large tea cups on a tray along with a teapot. The sweet aroma of green tea was filling the air, it smelled delicious. Claes brought over the tray and set it down on the coffee table before taking a seat in a well-worn armchair.

While Claes poured their tea, Jo explained the ever-growing story of why they were on their adventure. Yaz stayed silent as she always did and held onto her cup of tea. She inhaled the scent. It reminded her of a tea that was sold in GG’s and she felt a stab of homesickness. She’d been texting Ryan when she got the chance but she missed home. Not long now, though.

Soon they’d be curled up on Jo’s sofa once more, watching rom-coms and drinking prosecco. The idea of it warmed Yaz’s heart. She liked the idea of doing normal couple things with Jo. Maybe actually being a couple? That was a thought for another time. Yaz looked at Jo, who was telling the story, speaking with her hands like she always did. She’d wave them around wildly when she really got going with a topic. It was something Yaz loved about her.

Yaz didn’t even dare imagine life without Jo, the woman had brought a new life to Yaz. She ignited her spirit and made her feel invincible.

“So you want my piece of the amulet?” Claes asked.

“That’s right,” Jo nodded, “we’ll give it back when we’re done.”

Claes shook his head, “No, no, I don’t want it,” he put down his tea and stood up, “I’ve been trying to get rid of it for years.” He walked off into one of the other rooms and returned with a small box which he handed to Jo.

“Why don’t you want it?” Jo asked, putting the box into her pocket.

“It’s the metal it’s made of, gives bigfoots a headache,” Claes frowned, “I only kept it because Merlin told me not to give it away unless someone asked for it. I put it in that box to stop the effects. Nasty thing.”

“Huh. Well, thank you, I appreciate it,” Jo smiled and sipped her tea, “this is really good, by the way.”

Claes grinned, Yaz had come to the conclusion that that expression was a grin as he did it when Jo said something positive, “I make it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, would you like a bag?” Claes offered, “I have more than enough.”

Jo nodded and Claes stood up again to go and got a bag of the tea from the kitchen. Yaz watched him. He wasn’t clumsy like Yaz had imagined someone of his size would be. Sure, he was no ballet dancer, but he was more graceful than Yaz that was for certain.

Claes handed Jo a brown paper back that smelled like the tea they were drinking, but much stronger, “That’ll last you a while,” he said.

They sat drinking tea with Claes for another hour until the very large teapot he’d brewed was finished. Claes was the kind of person (or not person? Yaz wasn’t sure if “person” was the right word for him) that could carry a conversation almost single handedly and remain interesting the whole time.

He talked about a whole array of topics from the time he ran into his oldest daughter for the first time to Swedish magical politics (apparently much more together than the UK’s magical political climate was) to baking.

It seemed that, like big dogs, the sheer size of Claes had no bearing on his personality. He was a big softie.

When they did reach the end of the teapot Jo said it was time they were off.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Jo said as she grabbed their coats from the rack on the wall, “and for the amulet.”

“Of course,” Claes nodded, “you’re welcome back any time,” he added.

Jo grinned, “Thanks.”

They bid Claes goodbye and stepped out of his door. Once they were outside Jo took Yaz’s hand in hers and moments later they were stood on the outskirts of the forest where Claes lived.

“That was fun,” Jo said already walking towards the road so they could get a bus back into town.

Yaz did a little jog to catch up with her, “Yeah, he was nice once we got past the “humans as pets” thing.”

Jo chuckled, “Casters weren’t always great, but as I said it’s been illegal world-wide for 300 years.”

Yaz nodded then realised Jo was over 400, “Wait, did you ever know anyone with a human for a pet?”

“Yeah… was never friends with anyone who had a human pet,” Jo’s brow furrowed, “it was more common with the rich by the time I was aware of human rights.”

“History is wild,” Yaz replied, Jo just nodded.

*

There was a loud crash followed by Jo shouting “Fuck!” Yaz looked up from her book to look towards the ensuite where Jo was doing God knows what.

“You okay?” Yaz called.

“Yeah,” Jo appeared in the doorway with a large cut on her forehead, “t’is but a scratch.”

Yaz stood up and ran to Jo, “Sure it is, Black Knight,” she took Jo to the bed and made her sit down, “should I call an ambulance?”

“No,” Jo laughed, “Just get my wand.”

“Right,” Yaz went to Jo’s bag and reached inside, her hand found the wand with ease. She pulled it out and handed it to Jo who pointed the tip at her streaming forehead. Purple magic streamed from the wand and the cut was sealed closed again. Aside from the blood that was still on Jo’s face, you wouldn’t know she’d been injured at all.

Jo stood up again and went back to the bathroom to clean herself up, “What did you do?” Yaz asked.

“Slipped,” Jo replied.

“Well done,” Yaz sighed and lay back down on the bed to return to reading, “I doubt you’d survive without magic.” Yaz added.

Jo reappeared, no longer looking like she’d stepped out of a horror film, “Nope,” she flopped onto the bed next to Yaz and grinned, “good thing I’m really powerful.”

Yaz hummed in agreement.

After they’d got back into town they’d done a spot of sightseeing before getting an early dinner in a small restaurant after which they returned to the B&B.

The events of the night still played in Yaz’s mind, but she was distracting herself with her book. It was one of the ones she’d bought only a few weeks ago. Getting home from Scotland felt like an age ago, so much had happened since.

Jo being the biggest thing to happen of all.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Jo asked. Yaz tensed up instantly. Tomorrow was the day she’d finally have to go back to Scotland.

“Nervous,” Yaz admitted, “but I’ll have you.”

Jo nodded, “I won’t leave your side and will make sure you’re safe.”

Yaz kissed Jo softly, “I appreciate that,”

“And I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you,” Jo added.

“I’d rather you didn’t beat anyone up,” Yaz said, “I may not be a real police officer, but I don’t condone law breaking.”

“Fine,” Jo pouted, “I will beat them up _with words._ ”

“Much better,” Yaz put an arm around Jo.

“I wouldn’t actually beat anyone up, by the way,” Jo said, “I’m a pacifist.”

“I know,” Yaz kissed Jo again, “one of the things I like about you.”

Jo grinned at Yaz and all of a sudden Yaz realised she was in love with her.


	22. Fairies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but welcome back to LAFIT, folks!

Yaz knew she liked Jo. She was infatuated without a doubt, but the L word hadn’t crossed her mind until then. She didn’t tell Jo this revelation, she didn’t want to scare her off. Whatever there was between them was too good to risk scaring Jo off.

Thoughts of love had kept Yaz awake most of the night so she’d been grateful for the coffee with their breakfast (smörgås again). Yaz was pretty sure Jo knew that she was distracted but didn’t pressure her to explain why. That was one of the things Yaz loved about Jo, she respected boundaries. Instead, she made idle conversation about space and magic and space magic (that last one was especially tangential).

It was possible that Jo just thought Yaz was worried about Scotland, which she was, and that was why she wasn’t asking what had her so distracted.

After breakfast, they walked back to the SubterrestRail station and now it _was_ thoughts of Scotland that had Yaz so anxious. It was happening and she had to face it. If she didn’t face her fear now, she probably never would.

“Two tickets to Scotland, please,” Jo said to the man at the ticket office.

“There’s a train in 15 minutes on platform six,” he told them in a monotone drawl while the tickets printed. Clearly, this man wasn’t exactly thrilled with her job.

“Thanks,” Jo said taking the tickets and leading the way to the platform.

They walked to the platform and sat down on one of the benches provided at the platform. Jo reached into her bag and pulled out a white a red striped bag which she offered to Yaz. Inside was a random selection of pick ‘n’ mix. Yaz reached in and pulled out a toffee bonbon which she popped into her mouth and chewed to occupy her racing mind.

She kept telling herself all the men who had treated her badly were now in prison. They couldn’t hurt her. And this time she had Jo. Her wonderful, strange and beautiful Jo. The woman who could talk for England about nonsense. The woman whose hugs made everything okay. The woman Yaz loved. Nothing would happen to her with Jo around. She knew it for certain.

Yaz reached into the paper bag again and withdrew a pink chocolate mouse, her favourite. She enjoyed the artificial strawberry flavour that brought back so many nostalgic feelings. Memories of her childhood were keeping her grounded. She needed to be grounded when her head was so desperate to float away into the clouds where she couldn’t get hurt.

Jo squeezed her hand, “I’ve got you,” she said, “I’m here.”

Yaz turned to look Jo in the eye. Those beautiful hazel-green eyes were filled with so much love and care that Yaz fell in love all over again.

* * *

“Ready?” Jo asked as they stood up having arrived in Scotland. Yaz shook her head but followed Jo out of the train. The station was decorated like the inside of a castle and even in her anxious haze, Yaz couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous design.

They stepped out of the entrance which was an actual castle ruin. There were human tourists everywhere, it seemed mad to have the facade of the station in such a public space, but Yaz supposed it was the “hidden in plain sight method”.

“Welcome to Loch Ness, Yaz,” Jo grinned.

“We’re at Loch Ness?” Yaz exclaimed excitedly.

“Yep! Want to go have a look?” Yaz nodded and Jo led the way up the remains of what had once been a tower so they could get a good look at the loch. The world was covered in a blanket of snow, it was like Narnia before the Pevensies defeated the Ice Queen.

Once at the top of the tower Yaz was blown away by the sight. There was shimmering blue water for miles. The mountains, like everything else, were coated in snow. Jo was gripping onto Yaz’s hand which she greatly appreciated. She felt safer with Jo’s hand in her’s.

They didn’t spend long at Loch Ness, they had stuff to do. According to Merlin’s will, he’d left the final piece of the amulet in a cave in the Cairngorms guarded by a group of fairies. Jo had been most concerned about them as fairies were tricky creatures apparently. They didn’t like to be told what to do, Yaz supposed this was why Scotland was their last stop.

As Jo had never been up in the Cairngorms before they had to teleport into Aviemore (where she _had_ been) to meet up with a friend of hers who would be there guide in the mountains. Jo was smart enough to know a guide would be beneficial at this time of year. It was hardly going to be a walk in the park. They were venturing into a part of the mountains that wasn’t regularly visited.

The plan was to meet Jo’s friend in a cafe in the town so that’s where they headed. They stepped inside The Coffee Pot and ordered a latte each to enjoy while they waited.

“Who is your friend?” Yaz asked, sipping her drink. It was pretty good, but GG’s did a better coffee. She longed for her favourite coffee shop. Soon she’d be back.

“His name is-”

“Captain Jack Harkness at your service!” Declared a loud American accent behind them. Yaz turned around to see a handsome man in a long blue coat and perfectly styled brown hair grinning at them. He sauntered over and set himself down at their table, oozing with swagger as he did.

“Hello Jack,” Jo grinned, “this Yaz.”

“Well hello, Yaz,” Jack said, still grinning, “pleasure to meet you.”

“Behave,” Jo warned him.

Jack raised an eyebrow, “What? I was just saying hello?”

“Yeah, for you that’s flirting,” Jo teased.

Yaz couldn’t help but laugh, “Hi Jack, nice to meet you, too.”

Jo shuffled her chair closer to Yaz, which was clearly her way of saying back off. Yaz was both flattered and amused. It was really nice to feel wanted by someone that she cared about so much.

Jack didn’t seem phased by it. Instead, he just got right to it. He pulled a map out of his coat pocket and spread it out on the table. There were red glowing lines drawn on the map, showing the route they were going to take. At the end of the line was an X that Yaz had to assume was the cave they were going to.

“Right, this is where we’ll be starting,” Jack explained, pointing at the start of the line, “this is about halfway up the mountain, I went skiing there one time and it’s the closest place to the cave that I can safely teleport us to. Everywhere else may have changed, but as this is a ski track it’s clearer.”

“What about skiers?” Jo asked, looked intensely at the map.

“That’ll be fine, we’ll teleport to this site and then as soon as we’re there I will look for a safe place to then move to. It’ll be a matter of seconds, don’t worry. I also have a friend who's keeping a look out for us.”

Jo seemed happy with that. Yaz was glad Jo was asking the safety questions that she herself had also been wondering about.

Jack talked them through the whole route they were taking. Warning them of any less safe parts and various obstacles they’d have to go through/over/under to get to the cave. According to Jack, it would take roughly an hour to walk to the cave. This was thanks to the heavy snowfall, “If it wasn’t urgent, I would be telling you not to do this,” he said sternly, “you have got to listen to me up there.”

“Of course, you’re in charge, Jack,” Jo replied with a nod.

They finished their drinks then all left the coffee shop. Jack led the way to an alley they would be able to teleport from without being spotted by humans. Jack put his hand on Jo’s shoulder and Jo took Yaz’s hand. There was the loud noise Yaz was now used to and suddenly they were on a mountain, surrounded by howling wind and being wiped with large snowflakes that were blowing around violently in the strong gusts of wind. Another loud noise filled Yaz’s ears and they were no longer being blown around. Yaz opened her eyes, not even aware she’d closed them to see they were now in a clearing to the side of the ski route.

Yaz took deep breaths, trying to control her fear and anxiety. Jo was still clutching her hand tightly. Yaz had to remind herself that she was safe and okay. If it got too much Jo would teleport her to Jack’s house, as they’d agreed on the train.

“Right,” Jack yelled over the wind that whistled and howled around the clearing, “we’re going that way” he pointed through the evergreen trees, “come on, if we keep moving we’ll keep warmer.”

And so they started to trek through the mountains. Through thick snow that wasn’t safe. Over terrain that hadn’t seen a human in years. Whenever the trees got thinner and more scarce Yaz felt like she might blow over, but Jo’s strong grip kept her upright.

She was grateful for her boots that Jo had enchanted spikes onto the soles of. It made her feel steadier.

They were all holding hands in a chain so they wouldn’t get separated. As well as this, Jack and Jo were glowing with their magic so Yaz could always see them both.

Time passed and they continued trudging onwards. About half an hour in Jo had started to sing 80s and 90s Britpop songs and soon they were all singing Duran Duran and Oasis at the tops of their voices to keep their spirits up.

Then, at long last, they arrived. It had felt like forever, but they finally arrived at the opening to a cave. They knew it was the right one as it glowed with an ominous pink light. The light clearly came from deep inside the cave as it was dim at the entrance, but it was there.

“That’s fairies alright,” Jack said, “come on.” He walked into the cave and the other two followed him. The moment they were inside Yaz felt better. She was no longer being battered by the strong winds. She touched her face, it was numb from the cold. They all pulled down their hoods and looked around.

“Well,” Yaz looked around, “it’s certainly a cave.”

Jo chuckled softly, “Yep,” she then reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. It was brown with age. Jo opened it up to reveal a map. It was from Merlin’s will and showed the location of the final piece of the amulet. Both Jo and Jack pulled out their wands and muttered the same spell which caused the tips of their wands to glow brightly.

It was now Jo’s turn to take the lead and that’s what she did. They started to make their trip through the cave. The tunnels were illuminated with the soft yellow glow that came from the wands. It was comforting to Yaz. She was feeling calmer now than she had on the mountain, probably because she’d never been in a cave when she was undercover. Her only memory of a cave was Wookey Hole when she was a child so it only had good memories attached to it.

They didn’t know how long it would take them to get to the fairies as Merlin’s map was unclear. There was no singing now. They didn’t want to alert the fairies to their presence, “Better they don’t know we’re coming,” Jo whispered to Yaz.

Their trek was careful and slow, but sure.

Yaz had lost track of time pretty quickly in the cave. The air was thick with magic and the feeling got stronger and stronger the deeper they got. It was actually getting hard to breathe the magic was so thick in the air. Or it was just the fact they were deep underground. Perhaps it was both.

After some amount of time, Yaz was unsure how long, they didn’t need the wands to light their way as the pink glowing light was bright enough that they could see with only that, “We’re close,” Jo announced. Yaz could tell. Her exposed skin prickled with the magic that filled the air. It was a little like pins and needles mixed with steam, yet it was cold.

“Hang on,” Jack whispered, they all stopped and looked at Jack, “listen.” They did. Now Yaz was paying attention to it, she could hear the soft sound of music. It was unlike anything she’d ever heard. It was almost like chanting. Whatever it was, it was eery and uncomfortable.

They started to follow the music and the light, barely needing the map at this point, the fairies were leading them right to the amulet.

Before long the music was deafening, the magic almost painful and the light near blinding. They turned a corner and knew they’d arrived.

The corner they’d just walked around lead them into a large room filled with tiny pink creatures with silver wings twice their size. Their faces were more like the face that religious artworks depicted the devil having. Yaz shuddered, these creatures were not like those she’d grown up loving. They were scary.

“What do you want?” They all chimed into unison.

“We want Merlin’s amulet,” Jo declared. The air filled with the laughter of hundreds of fairies, it was horrible.

Yaz squinted to see through the immense light and she could see the piece of the amulet suspended in the air.

“And why should we give it to you, mortal?” They asked, their voices filled with cruel amusement.

“Because if we don’t take it, then someone far worse might,” Jo told them, her voice calm. It was a little scary seeing Jo so calm.

“Yaz. They can’t see you,” Jo said, but her lips hadn’t moved. Yaz squinted at her, confused, “I’m projecting my voice into your head so they can’t hear me. Fairies can’t see humans, you should be able to get the amulet without them noticing. In your bag is a replica that should fool them long enough for us to teleport safely away.”

Yaz nodded at Jo and started to walk through the cloud of creatures. Even when she had to push past them, they completely ignored her. As Yaz walked she could hear Jo and Jack taunting the fairies behind her, keeping them occupied, feigning annoyance that they wouldn’t be able to get the amulet and pretending to beg for it.

Yaz moved slowly as she could hardly see now she was in the midst of the fairies. But finally, she reached the amulet. Yaz reached into her bag and her hand closed around a hard, cold object which she pulled out. It looked exactly the same as the one hovering in front of her.

“While the amulet is touching you, they can’t see it. You have to do the swap very quickly,” Jo explained, “I know you’ll be able to.”

The pressure was on. Yaz lifted up the fake amulet so it was right next to the real one. She hoped it’d just float next to the real one as she had no other plan. Yaz then raised her other hand ready to grab the real amulet piece. Then at the same time, Yaz grabbed the real one and released the fake one. She looked around, her heart beating fast, but it was as if nothing had happened. Yaz exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

When Yaz got back to the other two they both took hold off her and they teleported away, leaving the haze of fairies behind, hopefully, unaware that they’d just been robbed.


	23. Encounters With Song and Smith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fam! The hiatus is over for good this time! You may have noticed that it says "23/31" now and that's because this fic is officially complete. Over the week and a bit I will be posting a chapter every day until everything is up! Thank you all for bearing with me while I was away, we can blame my work for the long delays.
> 
> Now, I think this chapter alone will make up for the long wait or I hope it does. Enjoy!

They’d teleported into Jack’s flat. It was warm which was exactly what they all needed. They all pulled off their soaking wet coats and boots. Yaz was still cold to the bone, though. Her socks, jeans and thermals were also damp from the snow. She could see her friends were the same.

Jack walked down the hall and opened one of the doors, “You two can get changed into dry clothes in here,” he said before walking into a different room and closing the door.

The pair glanced at each other then walked into the room Jack had told them they could change in. It was the guest bedroom. Very simply decorated, a real contrast to the one they’d stayed in at Vastra and Jenny’s.

Once the door was shut Yaz didn’t hesitate to strip off her wet clothes. She hated the feeling of wet socks the most so she’d pulled those off first. Just as she was taking her t-shirt off she heard a soft gasp from Jo and lowered her arms to look at Jo. Her face wore a concerned expression, “What?”

Jo walked over and lifted up Yaz’s t-shirt to reveal dark bruises covering her stomach. Yaz felt sick. She suddenly felt all the pain rush into her body. The bruises hadn’t hurt until she noticed them, but now the pain was intense.

“I’ve been with you the whole time, I don’t know how this could have happened,” Jo said, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice, “take your t-shirt off properly.” Yaz did as she was told.

Yaz looked down at the dark splotches all over her body again and something dawned on her, “These match the bruises I had when I left the- the,” she swallowed, “the place.”

Jo looked up from the bruises she was examining, “What?”

“They’re exactly the same. Hang on,” Yaz took off her jeans and as she suspected, her legs had bruises that matched the ones she’d got undercover, “do you have any idea what could have happened?” Yaz asked.

“No,” Jo murmured, “I’m going to call River, she’ll know.”

Yaz turned to the full-length mirror on one of the walls and looked at her bruised skin. In her last week undercover they’d started to beat her more and more. She was standing up for the other women as she knew she would be leaving soon and this had got her injured. A lot.

“Hey River,” Yaz heard Jo say, “I hope I’m not interrupting but I have a question,” there was a pause while River spoke and Jo smiled, River must have said something sweet, “okay, are you able to come to Jack’s?” Another pause, “We’re in the guest room.” And all of a sudden River was in the room. Yaz wrapped her arms around her body, feeling self-conscious given she was standing there in her underwear and now Jo’s wife had appeared.

River had her back to Yaz and was facing Jo. She kissed her wife quickly, “You sounded worried, what’s wrong?” Jo pointed to Yaz and River turned around.

“Oh my, what happened to you?” River walked over to Yaz and instinctively reached out to touch Yaz’s bruises on her legs before remembering herself, “Sorry, can I touch you?”

Yaz nodded and gingerly moved her arms so River could see all the bruising. Jo walked over to them as River examined Yaz, “We went to the Cairngorm fairies to retrieve the last piece of the-” but River interrupted her.

“You took a human to the Cairngorm fairies?” River didn’t sound happy.

Jo looked confused, “Yeah, should I not have?”

“No!” River turned to Jo, “Normal humans without the Sight can be near fairies and they’re fine, but when they have the Sight they will slowly get every injury they’ve ever received unheal in reverse order. How did you get these bruises, darling?” River asked Yaz, her voice softer when she was addressing Yaz.

“When I was undercover a month ago,” Yaz said, “I helped catch a sex trafficking group.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t there any longer,” River muttered. She took out her wand and pointed it at Yaz. Once the tip started to glow, River moved it over the bruises slowly, “It looks like the oldest injuries that unhealed are six weeks old.”

“I genuinely had no idea,” Jo looked like she felt bad, “I’m so sorry Yaz.”

“It’s okay,” Yaz replied. The pain was bad though and she was having trouble focusing through it.

River took Yaz by the shoulders and gently guided her to the bed, “You look faint,” she said, “I’m going to heal you, but it will sting a little as these were unhealed with strong magic.”

There was a knock at the door, “Everything okay?” Jack asked from outside. Jo went to the door and stepped out to explain what had happened to Jack without opening the door too wide.

“The Doctor is technically incredibly intelligent,” River said starting to work on Yaz’s bruises, “but sometimes she can be so unaware of basic facts. The Cairngorm fairies are powerful and potent creatures due to living so deep into the mountains. I suspect this it why Merlin left a piece of the amulet with them.” River’s wand reached the band of Yaz bra and River bit her lip, “Mind taking that off? I can see the bruises go under it.”

Yaz decided now wasn’t the time to be shy and did as River asked. River continued to work and talk, “We’re not sure why their magic affects humans in the way it does, but the few run-ins humans with the Sight have had with them have ended up in hospital because they didn’t know. Have you ever broken a bone?”

“Yeah. Both my legs when I was 14. I fell out of a tree,” Yaz said, “it’s a dumb story. I was proving to the boys at school that I was braver than them.”

River chuckled softly, “It’s lucky that was so long ago,” she said, “because if you’d been in there for long enough, your legs would have rebroken.”

Yaz winced, remembering the pain and just general inconvenience of having broken legs. She was really glad they hadn’t been in that cave any longer than they were.

The door opened and closed and Jo reentered armed with three mugs of tea, one of which was hovering next to her due to her running out of hands. She placed one of the mugs on the bedside table and handed another to Yaz.

“I see it didn’t take you long to get my girlfriend naked,” Jo teased.

Yaz felt her heart somersault.  _ Girlfriend?! _

“Girlfriend?” River looked at Jo, “Congratulations, it’s been a while since you had one of those,” she turned her head back to Yaz, “good luck.”

“Hey,” Jo pouted, “you’re one to talk, Miss My Wife.”

River kissed Jo’s pouting lips softly, “I know, I was wished luck when we started dating, too.”

“Charming,” Jo folded her arms but the glimmer in her eyes betrayed her mock annoyance.

They chatted about nonsense while River worked and after about ten minutes of working Yaz was all healed. Yaz went to her bag to get clothes. She paused for a second. Her underwear was damp and she needed dry ones but River was right there. She sighed quietly and decided to change them anyway.

“Awh, must you get dressed,” Jo whined.

“Yeah, you look so nice like that,” River purred. Yaz felt her cheeks burning and heard the sound of Jo smacking River’s leg, “She does!” River protested.

Yaz turned around to the two women who were hitting on her shamelessly, “We have work to do,” she said sternly, “remember the very urgent thing we have to do?”

Jo stood up and sauntered up to Yaz. She put her arms around her waist, there was a wicked look in her eye, “River can freeze time,” she said.

“River can what now?” Yaz looked at Jo with wide eyes. River also stood up and wrapped her arms around Jo’s waist, her chin resting on her shoulder so she could look over her wife at Yaz.

“I can freeze time,” she said, “it’s a very handy skill,” she added, kissing Jo’s neck, “time has actually been frozen since Jo came back. I figured I should because I have a class in eight minutes and I suspected healing you would take longer than that.”

Yaz felt her heart beating hard in her chest. River was gorgeous and there was no denying that Yaz was attracted to her. As if she could read Yaz’s mind, River reached past Jo and placed a gentle hand on Yaz’s neck, her thumb just resting on her cheek.

“Only if you want to, of course,” Jo said, “but…” she trailed off her eyes sparkling with excitement. Yaz did want to and if time was frozen then they wouldn’t be wasting time they should be spending looking for the wand.

Desire won the battle in Yaz’s mind and she leaned into Jo, kissing her deeply, their bodies pressed together. Yaz felt River move, then felt her presence behind her. River’s rough hands reached around her and settled on Yaz’s breasts. She massaged them gently and started to nibble and suck at her neck.

Yaz pulled off Jo’s t-shirt and flung it aside. She made quick work of her jeans too. Then turned to River who was unbuttoning her smart blue shirt. Yaz kissed River, enjoying the taste of tea and the way it was different from the taste of Jo. River kicked off her heels and both Jo and Yaz helped her out of her trousers.

The three of them made their way to the bed. Yaz was pinned down to the bed by the other two, both of them kissing each side of her neck hungrily. Yaz removed both their bras one after the other, but then her arms were pinned down above her head. She breathed heavily, unable to move. Jo stood up then came back with her wand. She tapped it to Yaz’s wrists that were being held by River and Yaz felt a rope fasten itself around her wrists.

“Oh, you’re using my trick?” River smirked and kissed Jo over Yaz’s body. All Yaz could do was watch as Jo and River made out, their hands roamed over each other. It was undeniably hot.

River then moved back to Yaz and pressed kisses down her body, she got further and further down while Jo started to kiss Yaz again. Yaz felt River pull her legs apart and then rope was wrapping itself around her ankles and holding her legs wide apart. The next thing she knew she could feel River’s tongue inside her, eating fervently.

It didn’t take long for Yaz to come with both Jo and River on top of her. She cried out into Jo’s kisses, pleasure rushing through her. Yaz breathed heavily as River crawled back up the bed and lay down next to Yaz. She wiped her mouth and smiled at Yaz. Jo also flopped down next to Yaz.

“Holy shit,” Yaz muttered causing both of the other women to grin. River took Yaz face in her hand and turned it to kiss her so Yaz could now taste herself mingled with the tea taste that still lingered. Jo climbed over Yaz so she was over River and joined the kiss.

Jo hummed, “You taste good,” and without another word, she crawled down the bed and started to lick and suck at Yaz. River still lay next to Yaz, watching Jo work and the effect it had on Yaz. Yaz had her eyes closed so didn’t see River move until she was on top of her. River lowered herself onto Yaz and Yaz didn’t need telling twice. She sucked and licked at River, enjoying the sound of her moans.

After Yaz came a second time, Jo shuffled to kneel at the top the bed so she was behind Yaz’s head. Jo and River kissed again as Yaz continued to eat River out. River had started to finger Jo and soon both River and Jo were coming at the same time.

* * *

The three women lay on the bed, their naked bodies shimmered with sweat. They’d freed Yaz from her ropes and were tangled together. Jo was in the middle now and both River and Yaz were idly fingering her as they talked.

“It’s been a long time since we did that,” River said with a smile, “I can’t remember the last time.”

“It was the maid in that hotel we stayed at in America. She didn’t know we were magic,” Jo replied.

“Oh yes,” River nodded, “I wonder what she’s doing now.”

“Wishing she had us again I should think,” Jo grinned.

Yaz enjoyed listening - she was tired as River and Jo had put a lot of their focus on her. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d come.

“Without a doubt,” River replied.

“Do you make a habit of having threesomes with strangers?” Yaz asked.

“We used to, it was fun,” River leaned over Jo to kiss Yaz, “this was fun.”

Yaz leaned her forehead against River’s, “Yeah,” River lay back down, “pretty good first threesome.” She added.

Both Jo and River looked at Yaz, clearly surprised, “We were your first?” Jo asked.

“Yeah,” Yaz nodded, “my partners haven’t been very adventurous.”

River hummed, “We never thought of it as adventurous, did we, Doctor?”

“Nope,” Jo agreed, “we called it Tuesday.”

* * *

Eventually, they agreed River ought to go back to work so they could put the pieces of the amulet together and go onto the next stage of their case.

River stood in front of Jo and Yaz and reached out to take one of their hands in each of hers. She kissed them both before letting go of their hands and teleporting back to Cardiff.

Yaz and Jo walked out of the bedroom and went to the living room where Jack was on his phone, “Aah, hello. Is Yaz okay now?” He asked. He had no idea that the three women had spent an hour of frozen time having sex in the next room.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better,” Yaz sat down on the sofa next to Jack.

Jo shot Yaz a knowing look as she knelt down on the floor the opposite side of the coffee table. She placed the three pieces of the amulet down and studied them, her brow furrowed.

“Right, I think they’re in the right places,” Jo said, not sounding completely sure of herself.

Jack leaned over the table to look for himself and nodded, “I’d say so,” he agreed.

Jo nodded slightly then pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it and scanned over it before pocketing it again. Yaz watched as Jo raised her wand and pointed it at the pieces. She began to recite the incantation that had been written on the paper copied from Merlin’s will.

Purple light spilt from the tip of Jo’s wand, it spiralled around the amulet, lifting the pieces into the air. They spun, slowly at first but grew quicker and quicker. The air was filled with a loud crackling that resembled that of one of a firework.

The crackling was deafening, the light blinding and then suddenly there was nothing. Yaz blinked, trying to get her eyes to readjust to normal light again. When they did, she looked at the table and there was the amulet in all its glory. It was shiner now it was together again, showing itself to be gold. The crystal in the centre was a deep purple and inside magic was fizzing and popping like a fizzy drink.

The three of them stared at it for a moment before Jack broke the silence, “What now?”

Jo touched the amulet gingerly, seeming to be concerned that it may be hot. Happy that it was safe to do so, she picked it up, “I just have to ask it to take me to the wand,” Jo said.

“And what will that do?” Yaz asked.

“In theory, teleport us to the wand,” Jo replied, “the instructions say that the teleportation will overpower any defences that may be around where the wand is.”

“Merlin was too strong for his own good,” Jack muttered.

Jo nodded, “Did you want to come with us, Jack?”

Jack shook his head, “No, I have stuff to do. But this was fun!” He grinned and stood up, “You’re welcome to stay here when you’re finished fetching the wand.”

“Thanks,” Jo smiled then turned to Yaz, “Come on, we’ll grab coats and shoes, not sure where this will take us.”

The two of them bid Jack goodbye and returned to the bedroom. Yaz felt ill from anxiety and excitement. After travelling all over they were nearing the end of the adventure. She watched Jo rummaging in her bag. Her friend, no, her  _ girlfriend _ seemed concerned. Perhaps it was because she was worried the people who’d stolen the wand would be stronger than her. Now Yaz had thought of that, her anxiety intensified. What would happen to them if the thief, or thieves, were stronger?

She shook her head slightly, she didn’t have time to worry about that. They had a job to do.

Once they were both ready, Jo put the amulet around her neck and took Yaz’s hand. With her friend hand, she pulled out her wand.

“Ready?” Jo asked and Yaz nodded.

Jo pointed her wand at the amulet that hung from her neck and muttered something Yaz couldn’t quite understand. The air crackled and hissed and suddenly everything was dark.

“Brother dear, we have visitors,” a woman with a Scottish accent called from the darkness.

“How exciting,” a man replied.


	24. You Can't Save Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today, folks.

The darkness was suffocating. Yaz gripped Jo’s hand tightly. She looked around for the voices she’d heard.

“I’m here,” Jo whispered to Yaz, her voice was soft and full of love. It made Yaz feel just that little bit more safe.

“ _ I’m here, _ ” the woman’s voice mocked in a bad Northern accent, “how pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” Jo laughed, “what about you? You’re the ones hiding.”

The man hummed, “she makes a good point, sister. Shall we reveal ourselves?”

Then the room was filled with light. Yaz looked around again and her eyes fell on an attractive man and woman. The man had short blond hair and wore an expensive looking suit. The woman had dark hair that was tied up and was dressed like an evil Mary Poppins.

“Oh,” Jo breathed. Yaz turned to Jo and for the first time, she looked truly terrified.

“Hello Doctor,” Evil Mary Poppins said, “care to introduce us to your friend?”

Yaz felt Jo grip her hand tighter, “This is Yaz. Yaz, meet The Master and The Mistress.”

Chills ran through Yaz’s body, something about those names caused fear to wash over her like a cold shower.

“Oh come on, Doctor, you can call me Missy,” her face contorted in a grotesque smile, “you always used to.”

“Jo, who are these people?” Yaz asked.

Missy sauntered over to Yaz and took her chin in her perfectly manicured hands, “We’re the ones who are going to change the world.”

Before Yaz knew what was happening, disembodied hands that weren’t anything more than shadows gripped onto her and ripped her away from Jo. She was tugged downwards and all Yaz could do was watch as Jo yelled, unable to rescue her.


	25. Cold

Everything was cold. Ice soaked through her skin deep into her bones. It was like being in the highlands again but so, so much worse. Yaz was paralyzed. Suspended in the air. Wherever she was, was pitch black. She couldn’t see a thing. The only thing she could think of was Jo staring after her, her face full of anguish.

Her precious Jo. Yaz wondered if she’d ever see her again. Perhaps this was the end. Perhaps now was the day she died. For some reason, Yaz wasn’t frightened. She realised that despite the intense cold there was this burning warmth within her. It felt like curling up next to an open fire with someone you cared about. It felt like she was curled up by the fire with Jo. With her strong arms keeping her safe.

Yaz wondering where Jo was at that moment. Still back where they’re been she assumed. Yaz wondered how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? Days, even? She wasn’t sure. All she was certain of was the warm burning within her. Intense love.

If she were to die, Yaz felt she wasn’t going to die alone. It was as if Jo was stood next to her, holding her hand, telling her it was okay. Yaz clenched her fists, trying to see if Jo really was there holding her hand. She wasn’t. She was with those other people. The ones who didn’t look quite right.

The people who’d done this to her, The Master and The Mistress, didn’t look like people. Not really. More like reflections of people. They looked as if someone had described a human to someone who’d never seen one before. Their faces were off and their limbs hung from their bodies like they didn’t belong there.

Thinking of them made Yaz shudder. They were horrible. And they had Jo.

Yaz tried to move more than just her hands, but no luck. She was paralyzed, completely and utterly.

All she could do was wait. Wait for either rescue or death, whichever came first.

Despite her own situation, what Yaz hoped for most of all was that Jo was safe. She knew Jo could handle herself, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

The silence was deafening. Yaz had heard that expression before, but she didn’t understand quite as much as she did then. There was a complete lack of sound. She wondered if where she was now was like one of those tanks people would go in. _Oh, what are they called?_ Yaz thought, frowning. Sensory something, she was sure of that much…

She sighed and put it to the back of her mind. She’d think of it.

The room really was cold. The warmth of Jo’s lingering love couldn’t block out the ice completely. Yaz could almost feel her breathing get slower and more shallow. She could feel her heartbeat grow slower and slower… She wasn’t sure if her eyes had been open or not in the sheer darkness, but they felt heavy and were definitely closed now.

This was how it ended, Yaz realised. She just had to accept that this was how she died. Slowly and alone. Well, not completely alone. Not really. Jo was there. In spirit.

Yaz had always thought she’d live until she was old and wrinkly. She just assumed she would. Going undercover had made her feel more mortal, but surviving had proven she could do anything. And now she was going to freeze to death.

There was no use fighting it. This was the end.

She was glad it wasn’t painful. Her whole body was too numb to be in pain. Maybe her brain was protecting her somehow? Or Jo’s magic. The human body was an amazing thing, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it was just nature saving her from the pain.

Sensory deprivation tank! That was it! She was glad she’d remembered. It would have bugged her. Yaz didn’t like the idea of dying without remembering it. She felt a little laugh escape her. It was such a mundane thought in such an extraordinary situation.

The pull of nothingness was growing ever stronger. Yaz knew she wouldn’t be able to resist much longer.

If only she’d been able to tell her parents and sister how much she loved them. If only she’d been able to tell Ryan and Grace and Graham what they meant to her. She hoped they knew. She hoped that in life she’d made it clear enough.

It was getting harder to breathe. If was like her lungs were made of ice. Breathing took so much effort. Yaz couldn’t think of anything else other than the air going in and out of her lungs.

Then she couldn’t think at all.


	26. The Mistress and The Master

Jo stared at the spot where Yaz had just been. Her petrified face was etched into Jo’s vision. The tears of fear streaming down her face and her mouth wordlessly forming Jo’s name.

“Where is she?” Jo demanded, not looking away from where she’d last seen Yaz.

“That doesn’t matter,” Missy replied.

Jo turned to look at Missy who was grinning maniacally, “Yes it does. You can’t just take her from me!” Jo ran at Missy, her wand aimed at her neck. She pinned her up against the nearest wall with the tip of her wand pressing into Missy’s throat.

“She’s human,” Missy said, completely unphased by the attack, “you’re above that, surely.”

“I am not above anyone or anything!” Jo replied, pressing the wand harder into Missy, “And neither are you,” she let Missy go and stepped away, “ _especially_ you.”

Missy rubbed her neck, “I had no idea you had that in you,” she turned to address the Master who was leaning against the opposite wall, just watching events unfold, “I told you her falling for a human was a blessing for us”

“Yes,” The Master smirked, “humans always make casters foolish,” he walked over to Jo and looked down at her, “you should have learned this by now, Doctor.”

“What do you want?” Jo asked, standing her ground. She was trying to figure out if she could get Yaz back. No, not if,  _ how _ she could get Yaz back. There was no if about it. She was going to get Yaz back and she was going to get her to safety as soon as she did.

She looked around the room, but the only door was currently being blocked by Missy and she didn’t dare make a run for it. They had Merlin’s wand, they could kill her with a thought if they wanted to. Then something dawned on Jo, “Where’s your caster?” she asked.

Missy shrugged, “Not important.”

“She must be close if you’re animated,” Jo replied, “that’s how homunculi work.”

“That’s how we _worked_. Before we free ourselves, you mean,” The Master replied.

“What?” Jo whispered, “How?”

The Master raised Merlin’s wand and waved it vaguely, “turns out when armed with the most powerful wand known to magickind, even a homunculus can be free. Don’t you think that’s exciting?”

“No,” Jo spat, “not exciting. Very bad. You’re not meant to exist without a caster.”

Missy shrugged again, “Surprise, we can.”

Jo closed her eyes and attempted to find Yaz’s soul. She had to know if she was alive. Every living creature had a soul and when a magic user focused, they could hear it. But Yaz’s was nowhere to be found.

When she reopened her eyes she saw Missy and The Master looked smug, “Couldn’t find it could you?” The Master asked, but he knew the answer.

“You’re masking it,” Jo said, “you wouldn’t kill her. You must need her alive because while she’s alive you have leverage… What do you want from me?”

“I’d forgotten how annoying you were,” Missy sighed, “fine, come with us.”

Missy turned around and opened the door. With no obvious other choices, Jo followed her with The Master taking up the rear. The door closed behind them and they were plunged into darkness. Jo followed the sound of Missy’s footsteps on the hardwood floor. Both of the homunculi could see in the dark, it was one of the abilities their caster had given them.

The two homunculi had previously belonged to Morgana. She was, like in the myths humans told, morally the polar opposite of Merlin. Jo had had many run-ins with her, but she’d vanished long ago, along with her homunculi. But now her creations had free will and Morgana was nowhere to be seen.

Jo tried again to find Yaz’s soul but had no luck. They’d completely silenced it. She hoped they really had just silenced her soul and it wasn’t a bluff to make Jo do what she was told. It’d break her to lose Yaz. While they hadn’t known each other long, the time they’d had was so precious and valuable to Jo. She had completely and utterly fallen in love with the woman and now she’d led her right into danger.

It wasn’t clear how long or far they walked, but finally, they reached their destination. Missy pushed open a door and went inside, the other two followed suit.

The room they’d just entered was an office with a grand desk. The furnishings were dark wood and the walls were decorated with black and grey wallpaper. The windows, like the previous room now she thought of it, were boarded up. Jo took in the room. She knew it well. She’d been there many times to meet with Morgana when assisting Merlin.

Merlin had always had power over Morgana. Their centuries-long rivalry had come to a close when Merlin died, but rather than wreaking havoc as the whole magic community had feared, Morgana had just vanished.

Besides her, The Master waved Merlin’s wand and the desk chair rotated. Jo gasped at the sight of the chair revealed. Sat in the large, leather chair was what remained of Morgana.

“You killed her,” Jo breathed, “how?”

Missy sauntered over to the desk and leaned against it to address Jo, “When our caster told us to retrieve Merlin’s wand she didn’t for one second think we’d be able to use it.

“That’s because homunculi can’t use wands,” Jo replied.

Missy nodded, “That’s what old Morgana thought. But as it turns out we  _ can _ use Merlin’s. We think even a human could harness Merlin’s magic, it’s that strong.”

“Why would you kill the woman who brought you life?” Jo asked she daren’t move with The Master next to her wielding Merlin’s wand.

“We were tired of following orders,” Missy said, “did you know homunculi are only meant to live for 100 years?”

“I did not,” Jo admitted. She hadn’t done much research into the creatures as she hadn’t had a desire to make them. She regretted her foolishness now.

Missed nodded, “Hmm, well, we’re both over 150 years old now and existence was painful, but Morgana wouldn’t kill us even when we begged.”

The Master stepped forward to join his sister, “When she asked us to steal Merlin’s wand we hoped it would be our salvation.”

“And it was,” Missy grinned, “we got rid of the old bat.”

Jo looked at the decomposing corpse of Morgana, “But why take Yaz?”

“Because you hold the secrets of Merlin,” Missy said.

“I what?” Jo was confused. She’d always got along with Merlin, but she didn’t know even half of the things he’d taken to his grave.

“According to Morgana, Merlin implanted his knowledge into you,” The Master explained, “we want it.”

“Morgana was wrong,” Jo said, “Merlin didn’t tell me anything.”

Missy rolled her eyes and walked around behind the desk. Jo watched as Missy rummaged through one of the desk drawers, “You see, Doctor, Merlin didn’t have to tell you anything. He embedded it in you,” she continued to rummage then grinned, “there you are.” From inside the drawer, Missy withdrew a glowing, silver knife. It was roughly eight inches in length if Jo had to guess and clearly held more power than most magical objects.

After closing the desk drawer, Missy came back around the desk and returned to her post leaning against it.

“What does that do?”  Jo asked, not taking her eyes off the knife. A homunculus with a knife was never a good thing.

“It’s a knife, Doctor,” Missy drawled, “it does all sorts. Stabs, slices, mortally wounds, you know, knife things.”

Jo grit her teeth, she hated Morgana’s homunculi more than the woman herself, “I mean, what has it been enchanted with?”

“Excellent question,” Missy grinned, “I’m glad you asked.” Missy walked over to Jo and placed the tip of the knife to her throat, in the same place Jo had put her wand to Missy’s own neck not long ago, “It cuts out souls.”

Jo felt fear wash through her. While anyone could technically survive without a soul, they certainly would not be living. Without a soul, a person would be as good as dead. They’d feel nothing. Being soulless was believed to feel like the worst depression. Very few had their souls taken because it was so barbaric. Even fewer lived very long afterwards. Most took their life soon after.

If the knife currently pressed to Jo’s neck could cut her soul out of her then she was in deep trouble. She knew she wouldn’t be able to teleport away as there would be protection spells on the whole building. At that moment, Jo saw no way out.

“Why would you want my soul?” Jo asked, trying to keep her voice level.

“Because we believe Merlin infused it with his magic and knowledge,” The Master said, speaking up for the first time in a while.

“Through research, Morgana learned you can embed your essence in someone else,” Missy explained, “that essence is in the chosen vessel’s soul. The vessel can’t access the essence, but if you cut out their soul? Well,” Missy grinned her demonic grin again.

Only two thoughts were racing through Jo’s mind at that moment. 1. Where was Yaz? 2. How would they both escape unharmed? She didn’t know the answer to either.

Jo spent so much of her life being effortlessly confident on the outside that she’d fooled herself into thinking she could get out of anything, but at that moment she was stumped.

“Okay, so you know you can do it, why haven’t you taken my soul yet?” Jo asked.

“You’re not weak enough yet,” The Master said coldly.

Missy withdrew the knife from where it had been pointed at Jo’s neck, “It was so nice of you to hand us your weakness on a platter,” she said, “Master, if you may.”

The Master stepped forward and to the side so he was facing the centre of the room, but still to the left of Jo. Jo watched him wave the wand deliberately, she knew what was about to happen and hoped so dearly so was wrong.

Slowly from the floor rose hands like the ones that had taken Yaz. They were pulling a body up through the floor. Yaz’s body. Jo stared at her girlfriend’s limp body. She wasn’t moving, she didn’t even look as though she was breathing.

“YAZ!” Jo tried to run to her, but the shadowy hands grabbed onto her and pulled her backwards, pinning her to the wall. Jo struggled against them, but it was no use, they were too strong.

“You monsters!” Jo yelled anger bubbled through her like lava. She had felt such passionate rage for a very long time. Never before had she felt murderous. Her morality and love for Yaz were arguing in her head. Was it really murder if the creatures she killed were only made of magic?

“Now, now,” Missy said, feigning hurt, “I wouldn’t call us monsters.”

“It’s what you are,” Jo hissed, “did you kill her? Is she dead?”

Missy looked at Yaz then at the Master, “Does she look alive to you, brother?”

“Not very,” The Master replied, “she’s quite… corpse-like.”

Jo felt her knees go from beneath her. She fell to the ground and stared up at Yaz’s lifeless body that hung in front of her. Jo rapidly went through emotions. Flashing from anger to complete and utter sadness. Yaz was gone. She wasn’t coming back. What would she tell her family? Or Ryan? It’d shatter them all.

Yaz was like sunshine to Jo and now she was gone it was like clouds had swarmed her world. Heartbreak enveloped her whole being. It seeped into her soul.

Missy walked to Jo and knelt down in front of her. She took Jo’s chin and aggressively pulled her head up so she was looking into Missy’s cold, uncaring face, “I think we broke her, brother.”


	27. But You Have To Try

This was the point where the hero was meant to suddenly realise how to save the day. This was when some big idea was meant to hit Jo square in the face and jolt her into action. That was how it normally went. Jo would be completely stuck, there was no way out and then all of a sudden she’d know what to do.

But not this time. This time she was kneeling on the floor next to the floating corpse of a woman she loved about to meet a fate worse than death. A fate that wasn’t just worse than death, a fate that’d probably bring her to causing her own death.

Missy and The Master had tied her wrists behind her back, not that they needed to, Jo wasn’t going anywhere. She was too busy thinking about how to escape to actually do it.

She wished she knew their plan, but they wouldn’t tell her why they wanted the power. They just _did_.

Even though they were about to cut her soul out. Even though they’d killed Yaz, Jo still felt pity for them. They weren’t meant to be alive. Their existence was torture.

“Do you want me to kill you?” Jo asked, surprising herself. So she’d reached the bargaining stage of grief.

The two homunculi looked down at Jo, “What?” Missy laughed, “God, no. With Merlin’s wand, we’ve been able to remove the pain caused by still being alive.”

Any pity Jo had been feeling was gone.

Where was that brilliant stroke of genius when she needed it?

_ Come on, Jo, think _ .

What was the point of being so intelligent if her brain didn’t save her when it mattered most? Jo cursed herself for not learning more about Merlin’s decisions. She was furious with him for using her soul like he had. Especially without permission. It wasn’t acceptable. It was so beyond acceptable. When she died and if there was an afterlife she vowed to find Merlin and slap him. Really hard. In the face. With a chair.

“Are you ready, Doctor?” Missy asked.

Jo looked up at her, “Why are you doing this?”

“Power,” Missy said, “we have a hunger for power.”

The Master nodded, “It’s the strongest craving I’ve ever felt. It’s as though we might die if we don’t gain more of it.”

“I shouldn’t think anyone would be sad if you just did that,” Jo spat. To hell with morals, she wasn’t going to be alive much longer, why bother being nice?

“How unkind you are,” The Master pouted.

“You’re about to take my soul,” Jo hissed, “I don’t care about being kind anymore.”

Missy tutted, “You’ll still be alive after this. You will have to live with the knowledge you said those words to us.”

“I’ll be alive as your caster is,” Jo replied, “being soulless is worse than death.”

“I do feel lucky to not have a soul,” The Master mused, “they seem to be a hassle to me.”

Jo shook her head, “Having a soul is wonderful. You’re missing out.”

“We’ll find out,” Missy replied, “I bet with Merlin’s power we could make souls for ourselves.”

“Not even Merlin could do that,” Jo said, “and I know he tried. If he couldn’t, you won’t be able to.”

Missy hummed, her face was smug, “No, Merlin alone probably couldn’t. But Merlin’s power combined with Morgana’s? Now that’s a recipe for world domination.”

And it dawned on Jo. That was how they were able to wield the wand. They must have taken Morgana’s soul using the knife they were about to use on her. This wasn’t meant to be possible, but it very clearly was. The evidence was standing over her.

“How have you done this?” Jo asked. The longer she kept them talking, the more time she had to come up with an amazing escape plan.

The Master glanced at Missy, “Shall we tell her?”

“She’s harmless now, why not?” Missy nodded, “I need to get a few things before we can cut her soul out, don’t let her out of your sight.” Missy strutted off out of the room and The Master walked over to Jo to stand next to her.

“We’re tired of our species being treated so poorly,” he said, sitting down next to Jo.

Jo had to laugh at that, “You’re the product of dark magic, human sacrifice and a lot of clay. I’d hardly call you a species. You’re more of a grotesque art project.”

“This is exactly what we mean,” The Master hissed, “no one even calls our kind a species. Why are we not afforded any decency?”

“Because you’re not more than a walking statue,” Jo knew she was playing with fire provoking The Master, but if she was going to die, why not?

The Master inhaled deeply, trying to control his anger, “We’re living creatures, Doctor, don’t you see? My sister and I even have magic now. Should we not be afforded the same rights as other casters?”

“You’ve got the same rights as all other magical tools,” Jo said, “which is what you are, by the way. A tool.” The Master hit Jo for that comment, but Jo just turned to look at him in the eyes, “Being all powerful isn’t all that,” she said, her tone softer now, “do you two intend to just keep taking magic until there’s none left?”

“Perhaps,” The Master said, “we haven’t planned further than taking Merlin’s power from you.”

Jo hummed, “So you’re just going to keep taking and taking in an attempt to fill the void in your body? Eventually, the magic will run out and I don’t think you’ll be satiated then.”

“We’ve nothing to lose,” The Master replied and stood up, “and everything to gain.” He walked behind the desk and pushed the chair where Morgana’s body still sat off to the far left side of the room. 

“What are you doing?” Jo asked.

He ignored her and instead of replying started to move the desk out the way as well. Clearly, The Master was making space. Probably needed it for removing her soul. Jo didn’t know how it worked, she’d always just assumed it was like cutting off an arm or something. If they were making space, then maybe not.

The door Missy had left through swung open and she walked in with a basket filled with black rocks.

So they had to make a magic circle. Jo wondered how they’d managed to do this whole song and dance for Morgana but decided the more pressing matter was not dying.

She watched Missy lay out the rocks in a circle. As she did this, The Master retrieved Merlin’s wand and went to Yaz’s body. Much to Jo’s dismay he sent her back to where they’d been keeping her. Jo closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that maybe she’d see Yaz again.

“I don’t see why you’re so attached to her,” Missy said, causing Jo to reopen her eyes, “you’ve got a wife last I heard.”

Jo clenched her fists, “What you don’t understand is that all life is precious,” she said, “and just because I’ve got someone else doesn’t mean you stealing someone I love hurts any less!”

The Master approached her and gave her a pitying look, “Your feelings sound inconvenient,” he said before going to help Missy with the circle.

While she watched, Jo rapidly flicked through plans, trying to work out how she might get out. They’d taken her wand so that rendered her powerless. Jo frowned,  _ or did it? _

One evening when she’d been assisting Merlin he’d, drunkenly, gone off on one about how if a caster really had to, they could probably use magic without a wand. It was a theory. Completely insane and probably based on nothing, but it might be the only way Jo was going to get out with her soul intact.

According to Merlin’s theory, it was like a defence mechanism that could only be activated when a caster had no hope of survival. When they were in grave danger.

“It’s this curious mix of adrenaline and magic,” Merlin had slurred, “I believe it’s how William Cast survived that attack.”

William Cast was the first known caster and where the name that they’d all taken on had come from. There was a story told about him how he was cornered and wandless and yet managed to cast the strongest spell known to magickind. It was a story told to young casters, everyone thought it was a myth.

But not Merlin. He firmly believed it was real. If was true, how come so many casters died when they were disarmed?

She started to work on pulling her magic together. Normally it sort of just slept until she wanted it and then she’d have to channel it through a wand. But without anything to wield it other than her body, she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to.

All she had to do was break the ropes binding her wrists. Then get her wand back… and then defeat a homunculus or two armed with the soul of one of the most powerful casters and the wand of  _ the  _ most powerful caster. That was all. Easy peasy.

Jo shut her eyes and took a deep breath. It was going to work. She had to believe. It was this or death so it had to work.

She closed her eyes once more and started to draw all the magic in her body together. Using magic felt like popping candy, but all over. She focused on that feeling and suddenly she heard the sweet melody she’d come to love. Yaz’s soul.

It was there, faint, but there! The popping candy fizz started to crackle wildly. Her whole body was fit to burst with energy. _Yaz was alive_.

The homunculi turned to see Jo glowing purple. Missy ran at her but a bolt of lightning shot her away. She was flung right into The Master and the two of them fell down in a crumpled heap. They didn’t stay down for long and Missy grabbed Merlin’s wand from her brother.

But Jo was ready. The ropes binding her wrists snapped and Jo stood up, finally opening her eyes to see the two approaching figures. The magic had engulfed her entirely so Jo rembled a purple version of The Human Torch.

“How the hell are you doing that?!” Missy demanded, “We have your wand!”

“What you two don’t know,” Jo said, walking towards them with purpose, “is that love is the most powerful magic known to man.”

“But we killed your pet human,” The Master hissed.

Jo shook her head, “Not quite.”

It didn’t make sense, Jo wasn’t sure how it had happened. But Yaz was back. Jo was pretty sure she _had_ been dead given she hadn’t been able to find her soul for a while. But she _was_ back. 


	28. Is This Heaven?

Yaz opened her eyes. Then screwed them up closed again. It was far too bright.  _ Is this heaven? _ Was her first thought. Heaven was always depicted as being bright white, after all.

“Yaz, darling, you’re safe,” she recognised that voice. It was soft and kind. Somewhere from the south of England, not the northern accent she had grown up hearing.

She slowly opened her eyes again and blinked so they adjusted to the light. She looked around the room she was in. It looked like a dining room. Why was she in a dining room?

“Is she going to be okay?” A second voice asked. It was, for the want of a better word, more common.

“I should think so,” the first voice said, “Yaz, it’s Vastra, do you have any idea how you got here?”

Vastra and Jenny! Yaz turned to look at Vastra who was kneeling down next to her. Her brow was furrowed in concern. Next to her knelt Jenny, who looked equally worried.

So she was in their dining room.

“I don’t know,” Yaz finally managed. Her mouth was dry. Like she hadn’t had anything to drink in days. Perhaps she hadn’t? She wasn’t sure what time it was. Or day for that matter.

Then it all came rushing back to her. She sat up straight, nearly headbutting Vastra on her way up, “JO!” She cried and looked around for her, panic pounding through her.

“She’s not here,” Jenny said putting a gentle hand on Yaz’s leg, “you just appeared here."

Yaz threw off the blanket she hadn’t realised was over her until then and stood up, “Well we have to find her! She’s in danger!”

“Do you know where she is?” Vastra asked, also standing up then helping Jenny to her feet as well.

“No,” Yaz said, deflated, “we completed the amulet and then teleported to this room,” Yaz focused as hard as she could on the events that had lead up to her being taken from Jo, “there were these people. Well, I’m not sure they were people. They looked like they were made by someone who’d never seen a person before.”

“Oh no,” Vastra whispered, “Yaz, what were their names?”

“Uhm, The Master and The Mistress I think, why?” She knew whatever Vastra was about to say couldn’t be good. She looked incredibly worried.

“Okay, that means you were probably in Morgana’s house,” Vastra suddenly turned around and walked out of the dining room, Jenny and Yaz followed her, having to jog a moment to catch up with her.

“Who are those people I saw?” Yaz asked.

“They’re homunculi,” Jenny said, “they’re made with very dark magic.”

Yaz had read about homunculi when going through Merlin’s journals. From what he’d written they were slaves to their creator and had no free will.

“Was Morgana their caster?” Yaz asked, trying to put the pieces together.

Jenny nodded, “Yes. She disappeared when Merlin died, we’ve all been waiting for her to return, looks like she has.”

Vastra led them into her study and instantly went to one of the vast bookshelves. She scanned over all the books, clearly looking for a specific title, before moving to another.

“How do you know about homunculi?” Jenny asked, watching Vastra search.

“I read about them in Merlin’s journals,” Yaz said, also watching Vastra. She moved with such grace even at her current speed, “What are you doing?” Yaz asked Vastra.

Vastra continued to browse the shelves, “I’m trying to find my address book,” she said.

“Your address book?” Jenny asked, “it’s in your desk, dear.”

Vastra spun around to Jenny, “Not that one,” she turned back to the shelves.

The two onlookers exchanged a look, clearly, Jenny was as confused as Yaz was. It made a nice change given Yaz found herself outside the loop on her own a lot of the time since meeting Jo.

“Aha!” Vastra declared and pulled a book off the shelf. It was bound with navy blue leather and looked ancient, “This is my address book for the dark casters,” she said, taking a seat at her desk. There was a weird look on Jenny’s face at the sight of the book. A mix of realisation at what Vastra had meant earlier and disdain for the item. This book had a history.

Vastra placed the book down on the desk and beckoned Yaz and Jenny over. The two of them walked around to look over Vastra’s shoulder. When Vastra opened the book Yaz felt a chill shudder through her. She shivered, as did Jenny.

“This was a gift from Bren,” Vastra said as she scanned the pages.

“Bren?” Yaz asked, looking at Jenny.

“An old _friend_ ,” the way Jenny said _friend_ was loaded. It didn’t seem like Jenny liked Bren very much.

There was a tut from Vastra, “I had no idea she was dark when I met her,” she sounded slightly defensive.

“You didn’t stop to question how your friend got her hands on a book with the home addresses of all evil casters?” Jenny asked, dryly.

“Need I remind you that we’re on a timer?” Vastra replied, “A timer that we can’t actually see.”

That shut Jenny up. Vastra found what she was looking for in the book then stood up. Yaz watched as she when into the middle of the room. She pulled her wand from a concealed pocket in her dress and started to cast a spell of some sort.

Magic flowed from the tip of the wand and started to form a shape. Yaz tilted her head to the side slightly to try and figure out what the shape was, then realised. It was a door.

“Oh,” Jenny murmured and walked over to Vastra, “that’s a really good idea, need a hand?” She offered. Vastra nodded so Jenny took out her own wand and assisted in making the door.

Meanwhile, Yaz was confused. She wasn’t sure why making a door was specifically a good idea. She’d just have to wait for them to explain it to her. That seemed to be how it went these days. Casters did something then later told her why.

When this was all over, Yaz vowed to study magic if only to understand what her friends were doing without a long explanation.

The two women finished making the door and gestured for Yaz to come over, “Guessing by your expression, you’re confused,” Vastra said, “correct?”

“Yep,” Yaz confirmed.

“Okay. So, Morgana’s house almost certainly has teleport protection spells on it,” Vastra said, “Jenny dear, would you go and get the repeat stone?” Jenny nodded and left the room.

“Right, that makes sense, why the door?” Yaz asked.

“Teleportation blocking spells have a loophole that we’re exploiting,” Vastra said, “if someone has teleported out of the protected area, you can reverse the spell and send them back,” she explained, “but you need a vessel for that spell to be reversed with, hence, door.” She concluded, tapping the door with her wand.

“If you’re able to do this so easily, why bother with the protection spells?” Yaz asked.

Vastra smiled, “Most people don’t know this loophole. I’m not even sure the Doctor- Jo does.”

At that moment Jenny returned, “We only know about it because of Bren,” she said, “the only good thing that came from that friendship.”

“Everything happens for a reason,” Vastra replied and took the stone from Jenny then handed it to Yaz. It was white and almost holographic, especially in the right light. Yaz looked at it, somewhat mesmerised.

Vastra placed a hand on Yaz’s arm, “Right, Yaz, you’re going to hold onto this stone and we’ll hold your shoulders so we can come with you,” Vastra explained, “it’ll take our combined magic to safely reverse the spell that brought you here. I have been to Morgana’s house once, so in theory, I should be able to teleport us to her study, it’s the only room I remember strongly enough.”

Yaz nodded. Her stomach was filled with butterflies. She was terrified for Jo, but hoped with the assistance of Jenny and Vastra everything would be okay. It had to be okay. She didn’t know what she’d do if it wasn’t.

“On the count of three,” Vastra said, drawing her wand. Jenny did the same.

“One,” Jenny pulled open the door. It revealed a void. Complete and utter nothingness.

“Two,” the two women place a hand on either one of Yaz’s shoulders, as Vastra had said. They both lifted their wands and pointed them into the nothingness within the door.

“Three!”


	29. The Power of Love

With the power of Yaz’s love rushing through her Jo knew she could beat the homunculi, there was no doubt. She was pure magic at that moment and fuelled by the strongest power known to magickind.

“How are you doing that?!” Missy demanded, she had grabbed a new wand from the desk. It was black and resembled a narrow version of steak like those used to kill vampires in films. It was Morgana’s wand. Missy was pointing it at Jo, her eyes wild with fear.

The Master was wielding Merlin’s wand and also brandishing it at Jo. He too looked terrified. They hadn’t planned for this. It was an unforeseen outcome. The problem with homunculi was they weren’t smart enough to imagine the unlikely. They only knew the facts. It was just how they worked.

Jo wasn’t actually sure what she was going to do. The magic that had taken over was like the strongest adrenaline high she’d ever experienced times by ten.

Acting on instinct alone, Jo shot a bolt of magic at The Master, it went right through him and pinned him to the wall. The magic fizzled out and a hole was left in its absence. The Master looked down at the hole where his chest had been. It revealed what looked like blood-soaked clay.  _ That makes sense _ , Jo thought.

“What did you do?” The Master breathed. He turned to look, wild-eyed, at Missy, “I don’t have organs!”

“Why would you?” Jo asked, “you’re just an art project.” She saw Missy running at her and shot magic at her, too. This time right in her stomach. Missy was blasted to the floor. She too had a gaping hole in her.

But neither of them were dead, Jo realised. And it was clear at this moment that they realised this, too. Both of them grinned and ran to Jo, wands held high. She had to think on her feet, otherwise, there was a good chance-

CRACK! Both homunculi shot bolts of magic at Jo, who dodged just in time by dropping to the floor. She used her position to whack them to the floor.

The reason casters used homunculi was because of how resilient they were. They were meant to die only when their caster died or when their caster let them. But Morgana  _ was _ dead. Jo would have to figure out another way to get rid of them because she wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever.

Jo wondered if she could make balls of magic in her hands.  _ Worth a shot _ , she thought and tried. Sure enough, two balls of energy form in her palms. She fired them into the faces of her attackers. Their heads were blown clean off in an explosion of red clay. Jo stared up at them, hoping she’d done it. But they moved.

“Shit,” Jo clambered up and looked around. The headless homunculi walked around blindly, “Okay, so you can’t see or hear me anymore, that gives me time to- FUCK!” The Master had fired a blind bolt of magic randomly which missed her by centimetres.

“Right, so that’s how you’re playing it,” Jo ran to the desk and climbed up onto it, perhaps higher ground would be useful.

Missy fired magic next, but it was in completely the wrong direction. Jo watched them stumble around and hoped she’d bought herself enough time to figure out a way to kill them once and for all.

“Wait,” she smacked her forehead in annoyance, “why didn’t I think of that before?” She jumped off the desk just as Missy and The Master started to shoot magic at random. They slowly turned around, firing magic as they did.

Jo waved her wand and formed a force shield of sorts. It’d only take so many hits, but it’d get her to one of the doors safely. If they opened.

She reached the door they’d first come through and tried it. No luck, they’d locked it. Their magic wouldn’t undo until they were dead. Jo wondered if that meant she was stuck forever. She almost certainly wouldn’t be able to teleport out of the room.

Now she wasn’t fighting for her life, Jo felt the surging magic fading and as it did, she grew weaker. That was bad, very bad.

She ran to the other door but was hit square in the shoulder by Missy, causing her to be thrown to the floor again. The shield was gone, too. She attempted to recast it, but her magic was running out.

Like when you noticed a bruise and only then did it hurt, it seemed Jo being aware of the rapid loss of energy had started to make her feel the effects more. She stood up slowly and walked the rest of the way to the other door. She tried it. Also locked.

Being so weak meant she couldn’t teleport even if the protection spells allowed her. She couldn’t fight anymore, either. Apparently, there was a reason casters didn’t do what she’d done. Because it drained them of magic much too quickly.

Jo had been so full of hope, but now she was ready to give in. She’d fought for her life but lost. Now she was playing Russian roulette. She could only dodge the shots of magic for so long and statistically, they’d hit her eventually.

The homunculi were still firing magic at random and all Jo could think to do was avoid them. 

“My wand,” Jo gasped and made her way to the desk where they’d put it. She rummaged through the drawers and then there it was. She picked it up, but nothing happened. Wands didn’t hold magic, they just channelled it. Jo had been foolish to think she’d suddenly regain her power.

However, now she was by the desk, she ducked down behind it and hoped it would hold.

She closed her eyes and thought of Yaz.


	30. Reunion

The three of them stepped through the door into a storm of magic.

“Get behind Jenny!” Vastra told Yaz. She did as she was told. The two casters looked around and as they saw the source of the constant barrage of magic, Yaz saw Jo. She was white as a sheet. So pale Yaz could see her veins. She had poked her head up over a desk at one end of the room. The desk was falling apart, evidently it had been hit a few times.

“Yaz?” Jo whispered, not able to speak any louder.

“Jo!” Yaz ignored the order from Vastra and sprinted to Jo. She vaulted the desk and landed next to Jo. She pulled her into a hug and clutched onto her so tightly.

“Hey, hey, careful,” Jo muttered.

Yaz gasped and pulled away, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Jo shook her head, “I’ve just used all my magic. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to come back. How are you here?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Yaz admitted, “I died. But then I wasn’t dead. And I was at Vastra and Jenny’s house. And now I’m here.”

Suddenly everything was silent. The cracking of magic had been stopped. Yaz stood up and turned around to see Vastra and Jenny breathing heavily. As for Missy and The Master, they’d been reduced to piles of red clay.

“What did you do?” Yaz asked.

Jenny pointed to the desk chair and saw the body of a decomposing woman, except her head was in her lap, “Oh my God.” Yas stared at the corpse.

“Turns out she wasn’t dead,” Vastra said, “just soulless,” she walked over to the desk where Jo was still curled up on the floor, “did you not think to check?”

“She looked really dead,” Jo said defensively. Yaz leaned down to help Jo up and put her girlfriend’s arm around her shoulder to help her stay standing.

“They’d put a glamour spell on her,” Vastra said, “and petrified her, too I should think.”

“I’m so confused,” Yaz said then turned to Jo, “can we go home?” 

Jo nodded, “Of course we can.”


	31. Home Once More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided I'd post the remaining chapters after missing a couple of days, hope you enjoy this last one <3

“One hazelnut mocha please,” Yaz said to Bill.

“Grace is already on it,” Bill replied with a grin.

Yaz looked at Grace, who was at the coffee machine, clearly making her drink, “Fab. Then a caramel latte to go with that,” Yaz pulled her wallet from her pocket, “Jo has such a sweet tooth, could you do extra caramel?”

“Of course,” Bill pressed buttons on the till, “Five pounds please,” Yaz held up her card and Bill pressed another button, causing the card reader light up. Yaz tapped her card to it then shuffled along to the end of the counter.

“How is Jo, by the way?” Bill asked, going to make the latte, “She looked pretty rough when you guys got back.”

Yaz sighed softly, rough didn’t even begin to cover it. Jo had used up all of her magic and was good as human at that point. Turned out that when a caster didn’t have magic running through them, they became very sick. Vastra and Jenny had taken them back to Jo’s flat. The moment they arrived, Jo collapsed onto the sofa and didn’t move for a solid twenty-four hours.

When she finally woke up it was rush to the bathroom and throw up. She was still pale as a ghost (literally according to River who’d come to visit), but life was starting to come back backing into her hazel eyes that Yaz loved so much.

It was another three days before Jo had felt able to leave the flat again. Yaz had only left for a few hours at a time and that was only when River was able to take over looking after Jo. River said she’d never seen anything like it, but she had a feeling Jo was going to make a full recovery.

Once Jo was starting to look a normal colour she and Yaz had taken the short walk to GG’s together. Jo had just sat in an armchair, staring outside. Since being back she’d spoken very little. River suspected losing her magic had been very traumatic for Jo.

A side effect of losing her magic was Jo’s tattoo glamour has gone. The sigils that were underneath were on full view so when she left the flat Jo wore a hoodie to cover her lack of tattoos.

One evening when River had been over for dinner Yaz asked her why Jo’s sigils were still there but the glamour wasn’t.

“Sigils are what’s called dormant magic, whereas a glamour is active magic,” River explained, “the fact that Jo hasn’t lost her sigils is an indicator that she does still have magic, even if it's a small amount.”

“What’s the difference?” Yaz asked as she ate a forkful of pasta. 

“Dormant spells will just exist once they’ve been cast,” River said, “so like if you create a sigil then it just exists until the caster dies. Whereas active spells, like a glamour, are sort of like a light switch. You can turn them on and off and they require constant power when on. Does that make sense?” Yaz had nodded.

It took two weeks for Jo to be able to use magic again, but she’d managed to light a candle after trying several times a day, every day since they’d got home. When she finally managed, it was the first time Yaz had seen Jo smile like her usual self. That warm smile that she’d fallen in love with.

Another week and Jo was strong enough to fix her glamour.

Now it was three days before Christmas and Yaz and Jo had been out Christmas shopping for their final few presents. Jo had popped back to her flat to drop off the bags and Yaz had gone to GG’s so Jo had a coffee waiting for her.

“Jo’s doing a lot better,” Yaz said, “almost back to her old self.”

“Must have been a nasty virus to put her out of action for so long,” Bill mused, “She’ll want cream, right?” 

“Yes, please. And those little gold star sprinkles you have,” Yaz replied.

Grace brought over Yaz’s drink and placed it on a tray, “It’s so wonderful having you back, love,” she said with a smile, “we missed you.”

“I’m happy to be back,” Yaz replied.

Bill placed Jo’s drink on the tray, “How’s the new job?” She asked, “I was surprised to hear you quit being a PI.”

If Bill knew what she and Jo had gone through, she wouldn’t even question Yaz’s decision to change career. Yaz felt she’d had enough stress and excitement to last a lifetime.

“It’s been nice,” Yaz said, “Jo’s a good boss, too. Very fair.”

“Well, yeah,” Bill laughed, “you’re her girlfriend, she’s gonna be nice!”

Yaz laughed with her and thanked her two friends for the drinks then went to her table.

After Yaz had expressed needing a long break from being a PI Jo had instantly asked if she’d like to work at Lafit. It’d been a no brainer. Yaz wanted to keep an eye on Jo and remain active in the magical world, it worked well.

She picked up her mug and took a long drink. There really was nothing like a GG’s hazelnut mocha. They always tasted best on a cold day and that day was certainly one of those. It was looking like they might have a white Christmas. There was still frost making Sheffield look like a fairyland even into the afternoon.

The thought of fairies made Yaz shudder. She couldn’t help but laugh that she’d met a bigfoot and fairies and her favourite, despite his sense of humour, had been the former.

The door to the cafe swung open to reveal Jo, who was grinning ear to ear. She bounced over to Yaz and flopped down in the armchair next to her. She gave her a quick kiss before picking up her coffee.

“Thanks, hun,” Jo said before taking a sip.

Yaz looked lovingly at Jo. When Jo turned to Yaz she had a cream moustache, a sight that made Yaz chuckle, “What?” Jo asked, “Oh, right,” she laughed too and whipped her mouth.

“Oh,” Yaz said in realisation and reached into her bag, “I got you something.”

“Ooo,” Jo looked like an excited child, “but it’s not Christmas yet.”

“Call it an early present,” Yaz replied. She pulled out a present wrapped in blue paper, fastened with gold ribbon, “Merry Early Christmas,” Yaz said, handing Jo the parcel.

Jo made quick work of the paper, eager to see what Yaz had got her. Inside was a scarf. Half blue, half rainbow.

“I’m sick of you shivering,” Yaz declared as Jo excitedly wrapped her new scarf around her neck.

“I love it! Thank you!” Jo leaned in and kissed Yaz, “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Yaz responded, “it was a nightmare hiding it from you earlier.”

“You got it today?”

“Yep,” Yaz nodded, “while you were bickering with that man over the last jumper for my dad.”

“It’d really suit him!” Jo protested.

Yaz laughed and shook her head in amusement.

Everyday with Jo brought something new. Just being with her was exciting and Yaz looked forward to their more domestic adventures that didn’t lead to certain death. Running a shop together and sharing coffee dates was all Yaz needed for the time being. It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Lost and Found in Time has come to an end. Thank you all so much for reading, it's been a joy to write this and read your comments. Thank you for sticking with me even during the hiatuses.  
> I'm sure I'll be back soon with another fic soon, but until then, cheerio! <3


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